simplicity in complexity
by rawrchelle
Summary: Itachi/Sakura. 100 drabbles. 050. Tallies - All of your failures and disappointments and heartbreaks, lined up and etched into your skin.
1. ripple

**necessity  
**055. ripple

* * *

He never did understand her. He wasn't able to, he supposed. It just wasn't in his capability to process and comprehend a silly little girl's sweet-talk.

"I love you, Itachi-san."

To understand such petty words, anyway, were rather useless. He didn't need them. He didn't need these feelings. They were incompetent.

"_I love you, Itachi-san."_

She wasn't particularly pretty. Her forehead was out of proportion. Her hair was an obnoxious pink. Her strength was brutally inhumane. It was absolutely unnecessary for someone with the likes of him. _She_ was absolutely unnecessary.

_I love you, Itachi-san._

He would travel. She would stay in Konoha. It wouldn't work, even if he wanted it to. And it would fall to pieces, like everything in his life did.

(_I love you, Itachi-san._)

Sasuke would pound him to a pulp if he ever found out. There's another reason for him to kill his older brother. He stole his most loyal and faithful fan girl. That certainly wasn't a pretty sight.

(_I love you, Itachi-san…_)

Love? Don't kid him. Uchiha Itachi did not need love. He did not need sentiments. He did not need Haruno Sakura. He did not need anything.

(_I love you…_)

But then again…he could always _try_ needing her.

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**A/N: **Yay! I am determined to finish this. One chapter down, ninety-nine more to go. Much thanks to the many people who helped me gather these prompts.

Opinions? Likes? Dislikes? Just want to comment? Review!

_I am saying this for all one hundred chapters of this fic: Naruto is not mine. If it was, there would be lots of NejiSasuke love everywhere. Literally._


	2. bloody

**bloodlust  
**010. bloody

* * *

Red could mean many things. To Sakura, it meant love and passion. She wore it to match the bright splotches on Itachi's cloak. It reminded her of the man; powerful, graceful, and silent. She kissed him ardently; his cheeks, his fingers, his lips. He responded with minimal movement—but he responded, nevertheless.

Red stood for love and passion. And oh, were these feelings ever so clear right now.

Her fingers traced his face; his cheeks, his nose, his ears. He was such a beautiful man, in such a horrific way. She kissed him again, sighing contently when his arms snaked around her waist and pressed her body against his.

He had always had this unique smell to him. Like an apple, almost, but one that was much too ripe. Bittersweet, she would call it.

She could feel his fingernails pressing into her skin, slightly too hard for comfort. But she didn't mind—he did this all the time. It was a way of expressing passion. He had said that it was a habit.

His eyes were a deep crimson, spinning with his deadly Mangekyo Sharingan, but she locked her gaze with his fearlessly. This man was not like Sasuke. This man returned her feelings. His irises were a pure red, but in them, she did not see love and passion.

For Uchiha Itachi, red meant blood.

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**A/N: **I mean, this is just a little, _teeny weenie _request, but review? If you liked it and you let me know, I'll write faster. :)


	3. fairytale

**happy ending  
**077. fairytale

* * *

She often told him stories. He never interrupted; he listened like a proper audience should, and never said much afterwards, either.

In one story, they were a married couple, happy and prosperous. The Uchiha clan wasn't slaughtered, Sasuke didn't leave, and no one pursued Naruto for the beast dwelling within him. They had two children—one boy and one girl—who were growing up to be fine shinobi.

In another story, she was part of the Akatsuki, too—they would fight side by side until they were old and worn, and then they would die in each other's arms. (He had told her that one was particularly cliché and slightly lame, but she just giggled inaudibly and watched the starry sky above her softly as she lay on the cool nighttime grass.)

There was another story where they weren't shinobi at all. They lived in a faraway land, where she was a princess and he was her most trusted knight. He would protect her from any dangers (and, of course, malicious princes who wanted to take her hand in marriage), and they loved each other very deeply. But then one day, a dragon devoured her, and in despair, the knight took his own life, too. That was how _that_ one ended.

He very much disliked one of them—it was the one where they were in a different world completely. People travelled in strange devices, instead of walking—_cars_, she had named them—and the way of fighting had evolved differently than their world had. (What good would a world like that be, he had asked her. No shinobi and no slaughtering meant that they would have never met the way they did.) In the end, they weren't involved with any wars, and they had a more or less happy life. She often had much fun telling him this tale, explaining everything in this other world that he so despised.

But there _was_ one story he particularly liked—not that he'd never tell her he actually had a preference.

In that story, she would visit him every night at their meeting place. They would lie in the grass and stare at the sky, whether it be cloudy or clear, where the little pinpricks of light shone as bright as her eyes. As they lay side by side, she would tell him stories—one after another, until she stopped mid-sentence because she fell asleep.

He particularly liked that one because it always ended with, _And they lived happily ever after._

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**A/N: **Sadly, I particularly dislike this one…


	4. forever

**promises  
**048. forever

* * *

It was a normal day. She had snuck out of Konoha to visit him. Time was running short, and the feelings were still raging.

"Forever," she whispered, voice shaking slightly. "Promise me you'll be here forever."

His head moved, just barely; a nod. "Forever," he murmured.

* * *

He had masked his chakra, and snuck in through her bedroom window. He caught her in a light embrace; barely noticeable, but at the same time, so warm and comforting.

She traced a red cloud with her finger, breathing in his light scent. "Promise me," she breathed, "that you'll love me forever."

"Forever," he agreed, pulling her closer.

* * *

She was working at the hospital, and was sent to a special room—a room with the strongest seal on the door, and two ANBU members standing guard outside. She was allowed in, and was met with a bloody, almost lifeless Itachi chained to the bed.

She worked quietly; closing his cuts, bandaging his wounds, feeding him his vitamins. Wiping sweat off of her brow, she undid the seal on the window and opened it, the breeze cooling her face. _I'll leave it open for you tonight._ Glancing out, she noticed two other ANBU members just outside of the window.

She brought out a stethoscope, and pressed it to his chest. His heart was beating wildly, just for her—_thump-thump_, _thump-thump_. _I'll be back._

"Promise me you'll be free forever," she said inaudibly—almost fearfully—as she pressed her lips to his forehead and ever so subtly cutting the chains that bound him.

"Free," he responded, playing with the word on his tongue. "Yes. Free, forever."

* * *

She almost collapsed when he kissed her for the first time. He supported her thin frame with his strong arms, and she restrained the whimper for more when he pulled away.

"Promise," she was barely able to say, "that I'll be yours forever."

A smirk hinted at his lips as he kissed her again, stealing away her breath once more. "Forever."

* * *

She was out on a mission. Her team had just caught sight of two Akatsuki members, and she was engaged in a fierce battle with Uchiha Itachi. Although emitting strong killing intent, their eyes were soft, and they were doing nothing but clashing with kunais.

She heard a teammate cry out in agony as Itachi's partner caught her with a fierce slash from Samehada. Both of them glanced over at the pair, and when their eyes locked again, the battle continued.

His breath was hot on her cheek when they closed in, metal against metal; a hard, screeching protest. She couldn't quite understand it herself, but somehow she had opened a gash in his torso, and he faltered—she stabbed him right where his heart was—where all his loving came from.

He only didn't use his eyes on her because they knew the proper ending to this ghastly tale. She held him in his arms, a grim smile set to her lips.

"Forever," she choked out, tears gathering on her chin. "Promise me forever."

His eyes closed, and he echoed softly, "Forever."

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**A/N:** I just _had_ to cover the last one with a new one, because I disliked it so much. I like this one. :)

Hint, hint, I'm a review whore? XD


	5. wings

**fallen  
**023. wings

* * *

"I _will_ save Sasuke," he told her infallibly. "I _did_ save Sasuke."

"And how?" she demanded, challenging his Sharingan with her own emerald eyes. "By slaughtering his entire family and leaving your last words of _hate_ in the air?"

He fumed in his own apathetic way, and broke their gaze. "Sasuke will soar," he said quietly. "Much higher than I ever have—much higher than I ever will."

There was a long silence, and she sighed, almost sympathetically, as she took his face in her hands.

"Of course he will," she assured him, brushing her fingers against the eyelids that covered his blindness. "You _gave_ him the chance to soar. After all," she surveyed his broken bones, his tattered cloak, "how can you fly with broken wings?"


	6. colorless

**sun  
**087. colorless

* * *

To Itachi, the world was colorless. It was once vivid and bright—with his parents' blood, with his people's decorated screams. Now, everything was dull and grey.

His eyes were beginning to fail him. With each passing day, the tones and pigments disappeared even more so than he had last remembered, and the images continued decreasing in clarity. Almost everything was gone, just like the faith that he had in his life once upon a time, left with nothing but black and white.

To Itachi, the world was colorless. It was beautifully distorted, grotesque, _wrong_—and all he's got left is his (_supposedly_) blue partner, Kisame. Nothing was right anymore; his life was littered with imperfections and composed of wrongdoings—and power, _power_ that flowed in his veins, and yet, heavy and dull and _grey_ every single time he caught someone in his genjutsu.

But then he met her. And although everything was still composed of what was in a greyscale, there was a centerpiece; brilliant and beautiful and bright. It was almost like what the sun used to be when he was younger; warm, and shining with a distant word called _hope_.

To Itachi, the world was colorless—but that was alright, because Sakura had all the color he'll ever need.

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**A/N: **This story is growing quite unpopular…-shrugs- Ah, well. I'm proud of it anyway.


	7. chaos

**oblivious  
**099. chaos

* * *

She thought she knew chaos.

Chaos was when Sasuke called her annoying.

Chaos was when Zabuza trapped Kakashi, and was about to kill them all.

Chaos was when Orochimaru bit Sasuke.

Chaos was when the Third Hokage died.

Chaos was when Sasuke left.

Chaos was when Neji, Chouji, Naruto, Shikamaru, and Kiba left to pursue him, and all returned severely injured.

Chaos was when she realized she couldn't do anything.

Chaos was when Tsunade trained her to her full potential.

Chaos was when Naruto returned from his three-year training, and they set out for their mission right away.

Chaos was when she was being used as a puppet, a hair's breadth away from death at every moment in the battle with Sasori.

But until she met Uchiha Itachi, she couldn't even _grasp_ what the word _chaos_ even meant.

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**A/N: **Much thanks to roxnroll; your reviews make me happy. And Dead Pulse, too; I didn't know you still read my works. :)


	8. midnight

**magic  
**066. midnight

* * *

"I'm afraid of the dark," she tells him, hands clutching at his cloak tightly.

"Not _of_ the dark," he replies, loosening her grip with his large, comforting hands, "but of what's _in_ the dark."

She contemplates this for a moment, and silently agrees.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. It's five minutes to midnight._

"I'll tell you a story to ease your fear, then. Do you know the tale of Cinderella?" he asks her gently, and she shakes her head in befuddlement.

"Cinderella? Is that a type of poison?"

He laughs darkly, and runs a hand through her hair as she blinks in confusion.

"Cinderella was a maid who wished to meet the prince of her kingdom. She was offered the chance one day, and was granted a beautiful dress, in exchange for it to disappear at midnight." At the last word, she stiffens, and her grip on his cloak tightens once more.

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. It's four minutes to midnight._

"Cinderella met the prince, and he fell in love with her immediately. Just as they were about to kiss and seal their love, the clock struck twelve. She fled just as her glamor began to disappear, but accidentally left behind a single glass slipper—which, surprisingly, remained intact."

She blinked like an innocent child, lost by the story's wonder. "What happened then? Did Cinderella ever regret having not kissed the prince?"

He chuckles again. "What do you think?"

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. It's three minutes to midnight._

She shakes her head. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."

He takes her hands in his and eases his cloak out from her fingers. Pressing his lips to her fingertips, he heard her breath catch in her throat, and cannot help but smile when her eyes widen in surprise.

"The prince searched through his whole kingdom for the girl with the glass slipper," he murmurs, his lips tracing patterns on her fingers. "He arrived at Cinderella's house, but was sidetracked by her evil stepsisters and stepmother and did not realize that the beautiful girl he was searching for lived in that house, for she was locked in her room."

She doesn't breathe, and all that's heard is his silent laughter. "Then what happened?"

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. It's two minutes to midnight._

In amusement, he leans in, and she does so as well, on instinct. "Guess."

She pouts. "But I don't want to guess! Why can't you just tell me?"

He cradles her face in his hands, and she stares up at him with a shining innocence. Her breath tickles his cheek, and he strokes her hair gingerly. "Cinderella broke free from the room, but when she made it down, the prince was already gone." His lips widen into a smile at her bewildered expression.

"You mean the story doesn't have a happy ending?" she asks in surprise. Again, he chuckles, and shakes his head in amusement.

"Do you think it has a happy ending?"

_Tick, tock, tick, tock. It's one minute to midnight._

"Well…" Her brow furrows in confusion and slight frustration. He pulls her closer and brings his lips just mere centimeters away from hers. Her breath catches in her throat—he can feel it—and he could not help but adore her child-like innocence.

He presses his lips against hers for the briefest of moments, but in that moment, it felt like all of eternity has passed. He pulls away from her, and she is astonished.

"The magic," he says, "always happens at midnight. But the real story is always after."

She shakes her head. "You confuse me," she tells him. "Why don't you just tell me what you mean?"

He chuckles. "Perhaps you'll understand when you wake up." And he presses his lips to her forehead softly.

_Ding, dong. It's midnight._

When the lips leave her forehead, she opens her eyes—but he's gone. All that's left, she finds, is a single ring placed on her finger, with the kanji that reads promisingly, _crimson_.

She wakes up in her bed with the ring clutched tightly in her hand. And, she realizes, that the story does not have a happy ending. It does not have an ending at all. It continues, and continues, and continues; midnight after midnight; magic after magic…

She keeps the ring close to her heart, and searches the village for her prince.

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**A/N:** I am near ecstatic. I got such wonderful reviews for the last chapter. It's a shame that there are more people who have this on alerts than there are reviewers. ;) If you have something to say, just say it!

And, yeah, that sentence ostinato was sort of from _Five Minutes to Midnight_ by Boys Like Girls. If you haven't heard it, go and listen!

Also, I started a site that has all stats and information on my chaptered fics, both originals and fanfiction. The link is on my page, just under the ToS. You guys should go check it out!


	9. shelter

**solace  
**001. shelter

* * *

In Konoha, Sakura was afraid. She was afraid the villagers would fear her and look down upon her once they knew her secret. She was afraid the Hokage would execute her once she discovered her rendezvous' with an S-class criminal.

With Naruto, Sakura was guilty. He would shower her with grins and encouragement—but what was it that she was doing behind his back?

With Ino, Sakura was anxious. If she found out, she'd forgive her, but…she'd never look at her the same way again.

With the rest of the Rookie 9, she was terrified. She would've broken all of their hearts in one go—and the last thing she ever, _ever_ wanted was to see them glare down upon her, or them lying on the ground, dead.

But with Itachi, she found solace. When he kissed her, she found relief. When he whispered to her, she found comfort. When she was in his arms…she found shelter.

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**A/N: **I love you all. Wonderful, wonderful reviews. You guys make me smile. :)

To LitoxShorty: Well, it isn't certain that she was killed. I ended it there, so you, as a reader, could decide what happens next, or what it was supposed to mean. So if you wanted her dead, then by all means, she's dead. XD

Somehow, it doesn't feel like I used this prompt to its fullest…(Sorry, xx. false - deception!)


	10. requiem

**dies irae  
**036. requiem

* * *

To the village, it was like a polka. A polka, or maybe a mazurka. But to Sakura, it was a mass. A mass for the dead.

_Eternal rest grant unto them…_

A ring was grasped in her hand, so tightly it hurt. Her knuckles were white, and the piece of metal felt like it was burning. Burning a scar in her palm, seemingly saying, _Just in case you ever forget me._

_Lord, have mercy…Christ, have mercy…_

She fought to keep that merry smile on her face. Although a funeral, this one was different. This was not a KIA funeral, nor was it one of a close friend. It was the funeral of the _devil_.

_He shall be justified in everlasting memory…_

"Sakura-chan!" She turned her head to the flash of blonde that she caught in her peripheral vision.

She forced her lips to widen that smile, but her eyes held none of that normal sparkle they used to have. "What is it, Naruto?"

_The souls of all the faithful departed from all the chains of their sins…_

"We're having a party at the Hyuuga's after! You're coming, aren't you?"

Her smile froze on her face. "I'll…think about it. I might already have plans."

The blonde frowned. "Who on earth would you have plans with, when everyone's going to the party?"

The ring in her hand burned into her flesh. _Just in case you ever forget me._ "I…think I might stay here a little longer, if you don't mind."

_Days of wrath, days of mourning…_

Her friend melted away in the crowd, and she stayed rooted to the spot as the ceremony continued. She could feel the dances in everyone's heart—one _two_ three, one _two_ three—but only words resonated in her mind.

_Free the souls of all the faithful departed from infernal punishment…_

When she was the only one left standing in front of his grave, she allowed the tears to fall. The gravestone was fit for him; large, cold, and obsidian. She placed a single red rose on the ground in front of it, right where his heart should be.

_We offer you sacrifices and prayers in praise; accept them on behalf of the souls whom we remember today…_

"You didn't even say goodbye," she whispered, almost inaudibly as her tears offered to water the rose. "If you don't say goodbye, how can you expect me to?"

_Heaven and earth are full of your glory…_

She pulled out a kunai and placed the tip against the side of the gravestone. Slowly and treacherously, she engraved her name on it. _Just in case you ever forget me._

He wouldn't forget, Sakura knew, but it wouldn't matter to him if he did, anyway.

_Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant them rest…_

She had the lips he used to kiss. She had the hair his fingers once ran through. She had the hands that he used to hold all the time. She had all of this—but her heart was gone.

She stood back, and admired her work. The rose was already half-wilted when she picked it out, and her name was barely visible.

_May everlasting light shine upon them, O Lord, for you are faithful. Grant them eternal rest, O Lord._

And finally, she turned slowly on her heels, and went home.

_Days of wrath, days of mourning…_

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**A/N:** This one _used_ to be my favorite, until I wrote the 'rainbow' one…XD

Actually, now that I look at it, this one might not be appealing to certain people…-shrugs- Apologies to those who are religious in one way or anymore and have been offended. It wasn't intended.


	11. idyllic

**after the storm  
**029. idyllic

* * *

She wiped the sweat off her brow as another portion of her chakra was lost to a patient's wound. _Honestly, at least Itachi-san and his partner could clean up a little better the next time they go on a killing spree._ "Shizune-san, I've got another one ready here!" And she moved to the next bed over.

A shriek was emitted in the next room over just as she was halfway through explaining to a patient when to take his medication. "Sakura!"

She sighed before rushing over. "What is it, Shizune-san?" Her breath was growing heavy; _damn_, she needed a break. There was this hurricane in her stomach that wouldn't settle; it's been so chaotic these past couple of days. "Something you can't handle?"

"He escaped," the other woman said faintly, indicating the empty bed. "_Again._" Before heading out of the room, Sakura heard her mutter, "_God_, I need a painkiller…"

Sakura shook her head exasperatedly, before leaping out the window. _Where the hell is Ino when I need her to cover my shift?_ "Naruto, where are you? I know you're around here somewhere! And when I find you…!"

A nearby bush ruffled. "Aw, Sakura-chan, I'm fine!" said blonde whined as his head poked from the leaves, his face pretty much covered in bandages. "Just let me go, already! I almost had him last time!"

"No," she said firmly as she grabbed him by the roots of his hair. "You almost got killed last time by his genjutsu. Do I need to chain you to the bed like last time?"

"But, Sakura-chan…!"

"No buts! Now, get back to bed before I hurt you!"

* * *

"And Naruto's just so eager to finish you off!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "Sometimes, I wish he wasn't so hot-headed!"

"Sakura…"

"And I have half the number of breaks Shizune-san has! Ino is nowhere to be found—honestly, I think she treasures her flower shop more than her job as a medic-nin—and you and Kisame-san are sending so many injured to the hospital. I can't even have a moment's rest!"

"Sakura…"

"And what's more, is—"

"_Sakura._"

She paused. "Yes, Itachi-san?"

His eyes locked with hers, but his Sharingan did not spin—a sign that he wasn't using it.

"Calm down."

And instantly, she was calm.

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**A/N: **That last one didn't seem to be as good as the other ones, judging from the feedback I had…XD Note to self: Never involve religious things ever again.

On another hand, I thought I didn't stretch this prompt to its fullest. But then again, this is the eleventh chapter…there's still, what, eighty-nine more to go? I'm not sure. T-T I failed Math for a reason, y'know.


	12. spite

**glass  
**072. spite

* * *

A faint smile was set to her lips as she idly took his hand in hers, entwining their fingers together gently. Then she timidly pecked his lips. She grinned, almost victoriously when his arm draped over her shoulders and pulled her close.

"I like you, Itachi-san," she murmured, almost lovingly. "You may not know it, but you're very sweet in your own way."

"_You_ may not know it, but I can see right through you, Medic."

She giggled, her voice tinkling and echoing in the still air. "What do you mean? Everyone sees right through me. I'm a bubble of emotions."

"Then you must not be surprised when I say, you don't really want to be with me."

Her expression froze, and she forced out a laugh. "That is by far the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life."

"Does the name _Sasuke_ mean anything to you?" His Sharingan was rotating slowly, and she could swear she saw a hint of malice in those crimson eyes.

Her grin only widened. "Of course it does. He's your brother."

"And you love him." His tone was certain, and monotonous. No different from his usual voice, really.

She waved it off. "That's in the past." She rested her head against his shoulder, as if affirming that, indeed, there was no one in her eyes other than the older Uchiha.

His eyes shone. "I can see right through you, Sakura. It's not in the past."

The twinkle in her eyes didn't fade. "Whoops. You got me."

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**A/N: **The more I write these drabbles, the more angst I put in them. T-T I wanted to make these _happy_. Ahaha, well, I've got lots of chances, I guess.

Reviews are appreciated. Oh, and happy Halloween!


	13. ninja

**life  
**006. ninja

* * *

"Shit! There're four of them! Why are there so many?" Naruto cried as he pulled a kunai out, at the ready. "I thought they only travelled in two-man teams!"

"They're _supposed_ to!" Sakura hissed as her eyes locked with deadly crimson ones. It was the wrong move, she knew; her heart was pounding, he hands were clammy, and her mind was flooded with _thoughts_—thoughts of late night talks, of fleeting kisses—but the scowl never left her face.

They have a four-man team. Her, Naruto, Neji, and Shikamaru. Which meant each of them got their own Akatsuki.

"How generous of them," Inner Sakura snorted.

"Sakura, don't look in the eyes!" The voice was faint, distant—perhaps it was already too late. She was drifting, floating—away, away, away into her own personal paradise.

He was standing in front of her. He was smirking. He nuzzled his nose against her neck.

And she stabbed him with her kunai. His image dispersed into many black ravens. She halted her chakra flow and returned to a scene where Naruto had one Kyuubi tail out, but it wasn't long before she was swept away again.

He was smiling this time. A sweet, soft, smile. "I love you," he told her. The words echoed in her mind.

_I love you, I love you, I love you…_

She snarled at him—or maybe her pounding heart—and charged her fist with chakra, before making a punch at him. Again, he disappeared.

And she was pulled back into reality once more.

"Sakura, now!" The Uchiha had a kunai in his back (courtesy of Neji), and she charged until her fist barely connected with his cheek. And he disappeared from her peripheral vision.

She was brought into the battle with Kisame instead, with Shikamaru. But it wasn't long before the menacing _thing_ that was Itachi returned.

And they killed each other. Somehow, they both ended up laying on the ground, bloody and gasping for breath. And they turned their heads towards each other, and stared. Stared, because, for the life of them, they couldn't bring themselves to do anything else. But they couldn't smile, either. No. Never smile.

And so they died that way. And even Tsunade wouldn't have found traces of tears in both of their eyes during the autopsy. No one would realize that Sakura's name shouldn't be engraved in the KIA stone.

As shinobi, they died. As humans, they live on.

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**A/N: **I thought this one was sort of lame, but I couldn't think of _anything_ for this prompt. Just wait 'til I get to _bisexual_…XD DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR ME?


	14. bittersweet

**forbidden  
**052. bittersweet

* * *

She was like a forbidden fruit. The forbidden fruit on his brother's tree, just sitting and waiting to be picked. And oh, when he bit into her, she was so bitter, and yet so sweet.

Her breath caught in her throat as he nibbled her earlobe. His fingertips traced patterns on her arms. He made her every nerve catch fire, her every heartbeat threatening to be the last. Such a bittersweet fruit.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she gasped one moment, and sighed the next. His lips smirked against her soft skin, only slightly beaded with perspiration. His hand reached for places she would've never dreamed of him reaching, and her eyes snapped open, a small cry escaping her lips.

"S-Sasuke-kun…"

Yes. Very bittersweet.

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**A/N: **And the angst returns…XD


	15. devil

**contract  
**082. devil

* * *

"You will follow me."

She nodded.

"You will abandon your village, your friends, your responsibilities, and everything you had lived for up until this point in your life."

Again, she nodded.

"You will devote yourself to me, and never will you turn your back."

Nod. Her eyes were beginning to brim with tears.

"You understand the consequences of going against me, no?"

She could barely choke out, "Yes."

"And what is it that you promise me, my cherry blossom?"

She swallowed, and breathed shakily, "Until death do us part."

It was his turn to nod. "Good girl."

It was then that she realized, she had signed a contract with the devil.

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* * *

**

**A/N: **Sorry for the long update. I had NaNoWriMo—that I failed epically, may I add—and I'm working on a bunch of other ItaSaku stuff. I signed up for an LJ challenge with my claim on that pairing, so those that are interested might want to put me on alerts, or something. :)


	16. rainbow

**blind  
**016. rainbow

* * *

It was raining. She stood before him, eyes wide.

"You're blind," she said, almost disbelievingly. "You're blind."

"No, I am not," he told her, as if reassuring the both of them. "I can see that it is raining right now. And I can see you standing in front of me. I can see that you are surprised."

Her eyes softened, but her expression was still tinted with pain. "No, Itachi. You're blind."

"I am not blind," he said firmly. "You're reaching out for my face right now, in attempt to comfort me." Her hand froze midway, her fingertips just tingling to make contact with his cheek. "I am not blind. I can see everything. It is raining, and you're not even attempting to hide your tears because you _think_ I'm blind, and that the rain will hide them for you."

She bit her bottom lip. "You know me too well. But you're blind. You can't see anymore. You'll have to accept that. Even a medic like me can't fix the Sharingan."

"_I am not blind,_" he all but hissed, grabbing her shoulders and almost missing. "The rain is letting up now, but you are still crying. You're _shaking_, but not in fear of me, but in fear of what will happen to me. _I am not blind, girl._"

"It's okay," she whispered to him, her arms wrapping around his waist and pressing her body against his. She could feel her hot tears soaking into his cloak, and the chilling, but lessening raindrops on her skin. Soon, they stopped altogether, and all was quiet. "You'll be fine. There are many people who can't see, and they're living happily."

"_Haruno, I am not goddamn blind. The rain has stopped now, and there is a rainbow arching across the sky. Does that prove enough?_"

Sakura looked up at the sky smiled softly, because there was no rainbow.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **This is my absolute favorite one, by far. :)


	17. bisexual

**affair  
**002. bisexual

* * *

"Itachi-san, you said that taking interest in me had nothing to do with my looks or anything, right?" Sakura asked offhandedly one day.

The Uchiha looked over to her. "What about it?"

"Well…have you taken interest in any other people?"

"Are you accusing me of having an affair?"

"No!" She laughed a little, easing the tension that had gathered in that one moment. "I was just wondering, because I thought I couldn't be that special."

He stared at her for a long moment. "Please elaborate what you are trying to say."

"Well…" She placed a hand to her chin. "Take Kisame-san, for example. Have you ever taken an interest in him? Like, have you felt an attraction towards him?"

The look he gave her let her know that if she didn't shut up that instant, he would slit her throat.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **I'm back! Back, and with a little humor, too!

I'm sorry for the long update; long story short, my memory stick died, so all of my prompts and everything I haven't posted yet is pretty much gone. I spent the last little while gathering the prompts together again, and here I am with a little snippet of…bisexuality?

Hope none of you are offended. XD I had fun writing this.


	18. fool

**cry  
**060. fool

* * *

"Why?"

The single word resonated in his ears, and even though it was his own voice, he wished it would just shut up.

Her expression was as hard and cold as his, and he didn't like it. At all.

She shrugged. "Did you really think that this could continue forever?"

The answer, _yes_, rung in his mind, making his head spin. Ridiculous. To have been together for such a short amount of time, and throwing that much trust onto her shoulders. Uchiha Itachi _never_ trusted.

But here he was, still trusting this pink-haired kunoichi, who was, perhaps, even deadlier than himself. Even when she betrayed him.

The ANBU on either side of him gripped his arms. His eyesight was failing him, but he could still see her eyes—green and pure and full of that shining willpower.

Except, now, that willpower was deadly.

"I thought it would last longer than this," he told her evenly. They stared at each other for a long moment, before she scoffed.

"I always heard rumors about Uchiha Itachi being _smart_ and _cunning_. Maybe they were all wrong." And somewhere, underneath all that willpower, maybe he found something else. Just maybe. But he was going blind, so he could never be sure.

The ANBU tugged harshly at his arms, and he walked along, finding no strength to pull away and fight. He was tired, _so_ tired—but he didn't know of what, or why.

He blinked as his vision blurred. Of all times for his eyes to fail him. Without them, he might as well be near useless.

And then he realized that he wasn't going blind. Not really, anyway. Not when a sharp wind blew at them, and he found that his cheeks were wet.

What was happening to him?

The last image of her in his mind was her cold, hard, exterior as she turned him in. Maybe what he was feeling now was what she had always referred to when he kept up his harsh façade. Never showing the least bit emotion, always acting as if he didn't care.

He never paid much heed, but now he wondered—did _she_ ever care?

There was this one time where he had found her crying—the day after he killed Sasuke. She was bawling like a little child; the amount of tears she had shed was absolutely ludicrous.

But it seemed he was crying exactly the same way right now.

Haruno Sakura was a betrayer. Just like him, turning on everyone and destroying others' lives. Haruno Sakura was a medic, always the healer of injuries, physical or mental, exterior or interior. Haruno Sakura was just an ordinary _girl_, but _dammit_, as much as he had denied it, he _cared_ about her and what she goddamn _did_.

And him? He was nothing more than a fool.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **Well, the next chapter is up.

Admittedly, I wrote this in a time span of fifteen minutes, and it might not be that great. But I always write like that; spur of the moment/inspiration kind of thing.

It's also unfortunate to say, but I could update a _lot_ faster, if I didn't write so goddamn much. I've been working on a (now complete and soon to be completely posted) SasuSaku. If you're a fan of that pairing, check out _Dreams_. And now, I'm working on another ItaSaku oneshot, along with an ItaSaku series. So please don't kill me.

Oh, and a SasuSaku AU. Er, yeah.

If you've got something to say, tell me. I like feedback, like every other writer, I think. :)


	19. half

**dango  
**090. half

* * *

They made up each other.

"Itachi, you like dango, right? What kind?"

She was Haruno Sakura. Intelligent, warm, happy, bright. The perfect person.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'll make you some."

"I highly doubt you can make edible dango."

He was Uchiha Itachi. Strong, clever, silent, lethal. The perfect shinobi.

"You're a jerk. Just tell me. You'll never know if you never try."

"I refuse to take any life-threatening risks."

"Don't say that! Geez, I'm just trying to make you crack a smile before you're never able to change that expression on your face."

"As if you could make me smile."

"I _could_!"

And, when one without the other, they were nothing.

"Sakura, put down the plate."

"You know damn well I can do more damage than a broken plate!"

"_Put it down._"

"Like hell I will!"

Absolutely nothing.

"You will be paying for that."

"Whatever."

They were two halves, that, when put together, made a perfect whole.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **It's about time I updated this thing. Yeah. XD

Are you guys into DeiSaku? I also have some drabbles to be posted on that pairing—it's titled _Above and Beyond_. Check it out. (And, no, I will not deny that it's shameless advertising.)

And, I have LJ! XD Friend me!


	20. rose

**shampoo  
**031. rose

(_this is non-massacre, just btw._)

* * *

"Bite me," she hissed, face threateningly close to his.

She wasn't going to let him take it. She had waited _forever_ for this day—she was _not_ going to hand it over willingly, even if it was Uchiha Itachi that she was against.

"Gladly," he responded, tone growing hard. "Later."

She smirked in triumph. "So, what, are you saying you're too scared to bite me in public? Are you afraid that biting someone like _me_ with tarnish the Uchiha name?" Her grip tightened on the object, as did his.

Oh, he was doing _down_.

"Hah!" She held the item above her head, victorious. Not even Uchiha Itachi could compete against her strength. "I win!"

She then made a mad dash to the cash register.

Seriously, these things happened every day. It was normal to see Haruno Sakura and Uchiha Itachi fighting over the last bottle of cherry blossom shampoo that was forty percent off. It happened every month. It was normal.

Usually, Sakura let Itachi win. Like, seriously, for a man to care that much about his hair was abnormal, but she was a nice girl.

But, today—today was different.

Today, she had a date with Sasuke. Sasuke asked her out after training to, maybe, just _maybe_ go out for ramen tonight and go over their mission details for the next day, because it was pretty big, and he didn't want to mess it up—

Okay, so it wasn't a date. But she still wanted to look her best. Every time she saw Sasuke off work, it was usually with Naruto or Kakashi. Never alone.

Itachi didn't chase her. Of course. Itachi wasn't one to chase people.

He was one to use calmer, dirtier tactics.

Let's face it. Everyone knew that if Itachi wanted something, he'd go through any means to get it. Which is why she somehow found him standing at her front door, not looking the least bit flustered.

"Sakura-san," he said slowly, straightening himself up from the wall he was leaning on. "How much is that shampoo worth to you?"

This was stupid. It was just a bottle of _shampoo_. "Seriously, Itachi-san, just go get some other shampoo. It's not the end of the world. I win this time."

He raised a delicate eyebrow. "Some other shampoo? I hope you realize that I do not use any other shampoo."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes. "Get some…rose-scented stuff, or something. I know you like your hair smelling like my name, so you can constantly be reminded of me, but let's admit it; it's kind of creepy."

She loved snapping at him. Like, seriously.

Okay, so here was how it was.

This guy wasn't really that scary, one you got to know him. After being a medic with this ANBU squad a couple of times, she found out that, in fact, Itachi was a lot like Sasuke. Except, maybe, a little more perfect.

That was all, really.

"How much do you want? Nine hundred yen? One thousand?"

"You're crazy." Fishing her keys out of her pocket, Sakura made her way around him. "I know you like me, and all—"

"That is an understatement."

"Whatever. Anyway, I have plans, and in preparation for those plans, I need to wash my hair—" Her hand froze as she turned the doorknob halfway. "Wait. What?" Slowly, she turned her head to face him. Surely, she heard him wrong.

He didn't say anything. And, really, he didn't have to. Those hard eyes and unwavering posture said it all.

One other thing she learnt while spending time with this man was that, Uchiha Itachi never lied.

Okay. Let's assess the situation.

They were fighting over shampoo, and he just kind of not really sort of totally confessed to her.

Holy crap.

"That's…great," she said slowly. "But, I have things to do tonight. And I need to prepare. So…I'll see you around." Well. This was kind of awkward.

"Sakura-san." His hand caught her wrist when she reached out to turn the doorknob. His touch sent shivers down to her toes and all the way back, the way Sasuke's never did—way more than Sasuke's ever did. "You should take that as a compliment."

Oh, so he was expecting her to _celebrate_ because he took interest in her? Was he bracing himself for a fangirl attack?

Well…she might consider doing that. Just a little. When she was out of his sight.

"Itachi-san," she mocked, yanking her wrist out of his grasp so she could at least _try_ to think straight. "That's great, but…I have an…appointment with Sasuke-kun. And I have to get ready."

The older Uchiha raised a delicate eyebrow. "Really."

She nodded, quite desperately. "Really! So…I don't have time for any jokes or anything right now. Sorry." This time, when she reached for the doorknob, he didn't stop her. However, he _did_ lean down and whisper in her ear, very, very softly.

"Well, then, I will see you at a later time."

His lips just barely brushed the shell of her ear, and she swore it was intentional, making her senses go overdrive. Holy shit. Only Uchiha Itachi could do things like that.

She swallowed, hard, and took a deep breath in attempt to calm herself, and thought she caught a whiff of that cherry blossom shampoo that they were arguing over just minutes prior. Even though a feminine scent, he just made it so…attractive.

"I-I'll see you," she forced out, before rushing into her home and slamming the door in his face.

Away from her sight, Uchiha Itachi smirked.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **Whoa, that was long. I've been in a real humor-ish mood lately. No angst for me. Life is good. Life is happy. :D

Oh, and now that I look back on it, I didn't use the prompt much. Er…

**

* * *

**

OMAKE

"Sasuke," Itachi said slowly as he passed by his room just after returning from the market. "You have an appointment with Sakura-san today?"

Sasuke looked up from his book, a scowl meeting his lips. He didn't like socializing with his brother. "Yes." It wasn't any of his business. And, anyway, Sasuke was thinking of doing more than going over mission details—like, maybe, letting her know that he actually always notices her cherry blossom shampoo. All the time.

"I see." His brother didn't move from the doorway of the living room, and Sasuke's scowl deepened. "I propose…a deal, of sorts."

"A deal." He frowned, shutting his book, ready to take refuge in his room when needed.

Itachi smirked, which was _so_ not a good sign. "I would like to take your place tonight with Sakura-san." Before Sasuke could open his mouth, he continued. "If not, I'm sure she'll enjoy hearing about you saying her name in your sleep."

Oh, he did _not_ just go there.

Sasuke glared with all of the Uchiha skills he had. It didn't work, because Itachi smirked with even more Uchiha power.

He scowled in defeat.

Bitch.


	21. temptation

**of t-shirts and jeans  
**038. temptation

(_au ftw, right? :D)_

* * *

Itachi rubbed his temples, inhaling and exhaling the slowest he could.

"Your luncheon meeting with Hyuuga Inc. is at twelve-thirty," his secretary was saying, consulting her agenda. "Then you have to go shopping for your mother's birthday at four, and go home and prepare between five-thirty and six. But, right now"—she paused as she checked her watch—"there's only about ten more minutes before you have to see your father."

He was an Uchiha. He lived under pressure. He thrived under pressure.

But he did not live—and most certainly did not _thrive_—under _temptation_.

Haruno Sakura was no ordinary girl. Haruno Sakura was not like his previous secretaries. Haruno Sakura did not make him herbal tea, nor did she wear skimpy-but-still-formal outfits to work. She did not cake her face in makeup—and she definitely did not bother him every other minute. (And thank God she didn't, too.)

No. Sakura made him black coffee, with cream and no sugar, just the way he liked it. She occasionally wore jeans and a t-shirt to work. She applied lip gloss on her breaks, and only spoke to him when necessary, or if he was the one who initiated the conversation.

To Itachi, this was the ultimate form of temptation. When the opposition didn't care about how she affected him.

"Uchiha-san? Are you listening?" said secretary cocked her head to the side, inspecting him. "I could reschedule your father's meeting for another time, if you're stressed…"

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I'm just thinking."

Shutting her agenda and hugging it to her chest with one arm, she tucked a lock of pink hair behind her ear with her other hand. (She did that on purpose just to see his reaction. He was positive.) "Are you sure? It seems like you've been overworking yourself lately."

He abruptly stood from his seat, making his way around his desk and over to her. "Sakura." The blush that crept to her cheeks was immediate.

Well, of course. Even though she didn't care about how she affected him, that didn't mean he didn't affect _her_.

"Y-Yes?" She took a step back when it moved a little closer to her.

"Stop," he said slowly, trying very hard to keep his arms still at his sides, "being so"—he had to pause to take a subtle deep breath—"fucking _tempting_."

She looked flabbergasted. "What?"

"Tempting," he repeated, placing a hand on her shoulder so she couldn't back away again once he took another step towards her. She had a floral scent about her, but he wasn't surprised. Her name was Sakura, after all.

"I'm not being tempting!" she said indignantly, cheeks flushing even further. "_You_ are!"

"I know." He shrugged noncommittally. "It's not intentional."

"Ignorant prick," she muttered under her breath. He narrowed his eyes, grip tightening on her shoulder.

"What did you say?"

Her eyes widened slightly from fear. "Nothing at all. I suggest we head to your meeting now." She avoided his gaze, but from her expression, he could tell she meant her words, one hundred percent.

Screw temptation. He should just fire her.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **This one is dedicated to _AB_, who just recently reviewed every single chapter of this fic. Seriously, I was so happy! :D


	22. innocence

**vegetable soup**  
061. innocence

(_six months laterrr!_)

* * *

There were many things that were debatable to the outside world.

His sexuality was debatable. His socializing skills were debatable. But his health? His health could top anyone's in a moment.

Apparently, Sakura thought otherwise.

"I can make vegetable soup myself," he told her evenly as she chopped up said vegetables at the island in the middle of his kitchen. "Thank you for your concern."

"You can," she told him without even looking up, "but you won't. That's the difference between you and me, you see. I seem to care for your well-being more than yourself." She glanced at him. "That shows some psychological issues, you know."

Making his way around the island, Itachi put one hand on her shoulder, the other easing the knife out of her grip.

"If having psychological issues includes being able to attract females like you, perhaps I wouldn't mind," he whispered in her ear, admiring the way she shivered at his lips grazing her skin.

It was too tempting. Her inexperience in this area was priceless.

And this was why he liked teasing Sasuke so much.

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about," she retorted, grabbing the knife from him and chopping up the vegetables with newfound vigor. "What made you think I was attracted to you?"

"Both you and I know that that's a rhetorical question."

There was a moment of silence where she stood in front of him, her back just barely grazing his chest, speechless. "Shut up."

"I wouldn't mind doing that," he said with a smirk playing at this lips as he brought his hand around to her chin and turned her head so his lips pressed against hers.

He found it highly amusing how she found the sense to hold the knife threateningly to his face five whole minutes later.

**

* * *

A/N:** We all know I suck at updating. This wasn't a surprise.

All electronics hate me. I lost almost all of my FFN stuff. Again. I saved a couple of them, though—mostly my on-going ones—so that's good, I guess. But, on the brighter side, I got a MacBook! I'm so scared of breaking it. I'm typing on a fortune, here. D:

Constructed criticism is appreciated.

OH, AND I'M CHANGING MY PENNAME TOMORROW, YOU GUYS. _TOMORROW._ AS IN, JUNE 1ST. TO "rawrchelle". MARK IT ON YOUR CALENDARSSSS.


	23. chess

**rooks**  
093. chess

* * *

She couldn't stop crying.

They were so close. So close to getting Sasuke back. So close to what they had been working towards for years.

They were _so fucking close_.

Kisame didn't pay much heed towards her as she sobbed on his back, other than grunting an "Oi, you're making my cloak wet. Stop it."

She would've tried escaping at the first opportunity, but she hated the way she couldn't even gather enough chakra into her fist to punch the shark-nin. His large sword was resting at her side, and she could just feel it eating away at her energy.

The Akatsuki were sick.

"Itachi, can you carry her for a while? Seriously, she's beginning to piss me off."

"Hn." Her body was carelessly tossed at Kisame's partner, and she found herself in the arms of the man she hated with all her body and soul.

"Don't _touch_ me, you bastard," she hissed through gritted teeth, half desperate, half furious. "I hate you—I _hate_ you…!" And she broke into angry sobs again.

She couldn't see him, but she was sure he was quirking an eyebrow the way Sasuke would when she was being particularly outrageous. "For killing my little brother?" he asked, almost indifferently. It was as if he didn't care. He killed the last of his family, and he didn't _care_.

Her hands clenched. She couldn't do anything. Not here, not now—not to him.

"Listen, kunoichi." The Uchiha's voice was low and dangerous as he spoke quietly into her ear. "In the big picture, my little brother was nothing more than a rook. You"—her tears nearly stopped entirely from her fear of the man—"are just a bishop—even of a lesser importance than Sasuke. You're just bait, holding enough significance to lure out the queen."

Bait. Queen. "N-Naruto…"

"Correct." She couldn't stop shaking in his arms. "And without the queen, the king is nothing. Konoha will fall. The entire shinobi world will fall."

He said she was a bishop, but right now, she felt like nothing more than a pawn.

**

* * *

A/N:** Go vote in my poll, yes? :)


	24. snapshot

**up, up, up**  
083. snapshot

* * *

"E-Excuse me, Sasuke-kun's brother…" Itachi looked down to see a little girl, no older than his younger brother. "Can you help me get that kite down?"

He glanced up at the pink kite hidden in the leaves of the tree above him. Without much thought, he walked up the tree with chakra carefully laced on the bottom of his feet until he reached it. Plucking the kite from its spot, he turned around and walked back down, handing it to the gaping girl.

"Y-You can walk up trees!" she exclaimed, clearly surprised.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I can."

"Can you teach me? Then I can always get my kites!"

At her age, she should already be training to enter the academy, he mused. Unless she was just a mere civilian and her parents never told her about shinobi.

"It's not something I can just teach," he explained patiently, the way he did with Sasuke. The girl seemed to tear up a little.

"But I want to know how…"

"If you want to climb up trees, go learn to be a shinobi." A faint smile graced his lips as he knelt down and ruffled her hair a little. Her bright eyes were obscured by her bangs; it really was a waste to have them hidden. "Then, when you've learned, you can show me."

The girl beamed. "Thanks, Sasuke-kun's brother! I'll be the greatest kunoichi in the world, and then I'll climb the highest tree ever!"

His expression softened, and he wished he could smile brightly like the way she did. "I'll wait for that day."

**x**

The night of the Uchiha massacre, he was a little disappointed, knowing that he wouldn't see that pink-haired girl walk up a tree.

**x**

The first thought that crossed his mind was how she matured.

Her bangs weren't messy anymore. They didn't cover those bright eyes—those bright eyes that sparkled with fear at the very sight of him. He even noticed how her forehead was strangely out of proportion. Was that natural?

Throughout the fight, he did not make contact with her at all. He ignored the disappointment.

(Somehow, everything that had to do with her made him disappointed. He didn't know why.)

**x**

She killed Sasori, he heard.

He smirked. Obviously, she could do more than climb trees, now.

**x**

"I hate you," she seethed. "I _hate_ you."

"Most people feel that way about me," he told her, voice lilting. He liked the way such simple words could make her furious. The little girl he saved the kite for was no longer there. It would be a surprise if she even remembered that encounter.

"What you did to Sasuke…" With a heel to the ground, the earth fissured.

With a blur, he appeared behind her. When she looked back at him with a scowl, he pulled her into a genjutsu.

One made specially for her.

**x**

Itachi didn't remember things in long scenes. He remembered them in moments. In snapshots.

It wasn't what happened that was important. It was the second and the moment that shaped him into who he was—_what_ he was today.

He remembered the moment she promised to show him when she could walk up a tree. He remembered how he felt when he heard how she had matured. He remembered how he felt when he saw the results of that maturation.

He remembered the moment he kissed this mature woman who could walk up trees, smash boulders with a flick of the finger, rip muscles and break bones at one brush of her hand. When he pulled away from her, the genjutsu had melted away, but she didn't seem to notice.

She fell to the ground, sobbing.

Just like that little girl who couldn't walk up trees.

_There was that disappointment again._

**x**

Eventually, she would be able to look at him and smile. Although it'd be a melancholy smile, it'd still be a smile.

Those would be the moments he'd take care to remember the most—for when he finally went blind, his mind would be a camera, and behind his eyelids, he would see the snapshots of their relationship, from beginning to end and beyond and beyond and beyond that.

**

* * *

A/N:** You see, I'd update more often if I didn't forget this had to be updated. It's not my fault. Really.

I actually think this one's kind of weird. Sorry.


	25. liar

**troubles**  
025. liar

(_i've been in a pretty happy, fluffy mood lately, so this will be non-massacre. :3_)

* * *

Let's face it. Uchiha Itachi was irresistible. Even Uchiha Sasuke's got nothing on him.

There were a few main differences between the two Uchihas. For one, Itachi matured at a much faster rate. When he was thirteen, he was already in the ANBU. When Sasuke was thirteen, he was still a genin.

A _genin_.

Itachi's hair made much more sense. It didn't defy gravity, like the cockatoo hair of _another_ Uchiha we knew.

And Itachi actually talked. (Yeah, he _talked_. Be jealous.) That was probably the biggest factor that made Haruno Sakura fall for him. Itachi had the capability to hold a conversation.

But then again, everyone had his flaws. Like Itachi's tendency to protect his dignity, even if it meant bullshitting his way through it.

Which brought us to this predicament here.

Sakura wasn't heartbroken. Nah—she was more than that.

She was fucking _angry_.

She and Naruto had planned to go to Ichiraku for ramen when she found Itachi—her sexy, sexy boyfriend—having lunch with another woman. Now, normally, she wouldn't mind. She had lunch with Naruto and Sasuke alone all the time as friends, so that didn't mean Itachi couldn't do that same. Except—except he was doing inappropriate things.

Like _touching_ her. Brushing some hair out of her face, putting his arm around her shoulders—even leaning in to _kiss_ her. But thank God that didn't happen, because she pushed him away.

She pushed him away, and _giggled_.

Like they were _flirting_.

Oh, that bitch was going to get it.

(Personally, Sakura never thought that Itachi was one to cheat. Because he had pride, and whatnot. He wouldn't be caught dead with another woman when he was already taken.)

(But obviously, she thought wrong.)

Stomping angrily into Ichiraku, leaving Naruto rather befuddled, she shoved the happily flirting couple off of their stools. Itachi, being an agile shinobi, landed on his feet effortlessly. Unfortunately for his counterpart, however, she fell gracelessly to the floor.

Hah. Served her right.

"First of all." She put her hands on her hips as the other woman hastily picked herself up and brushed her clothes off. "_You_"—Sakura jabbed a finger at her chest—"stay away from _my_ man. And secondly," she turned around to face Itachi, scowling, "don't think we're still together after this." Tears were brimming at her eyes (angry tears. Of course they were angry tears) as she turned and stalked out. "Naruto, we're going somewhere else for lunch."

"Eh? But I wanted ramen!"

"We're going somewhere else."

"But Sakura-chaaan—ow!"

**x**

"I mean—tomorrow was our six month anniversary, too!" She stabbed her fork angrily into her cheesecake. "He even said he'd take me out for dinner and everything. Now all _that's_ down the drain."

Naruto, who clearly was not used to consoling of this kind, ate his sandwich miserably, mourning for the lack of ramen.

"And who _is_ she, anyway?" Sakura continued, feeling incredibly upset. "She didn't even look like a shinobi. Hey, Naruto, d'you think she's part of the Uchiha clan? Do you think Itachi's dad wouldn't let him date someone like me because I wasn't part of the _clan_?"

"I don't know, Sakura-chan. Ask Sasuke about this."

"Sasuke doesn't _talk_."

"…Well, I suppose you could just ask Itachi about it, right? I didn't think he'd be the type to cheat, and I'm never wrong in judging people. So go talk to him about it!"

Sakura blinked. "You're crazy. No way."

Naruto shrugged. "Then deal with it, then. You're the only one who can fix it, and if you won't, no one will."

She frowned, because she knew he was right.

**x**

The next day, she saw Itachi at the market, picking out some fresh tomatoes—for Sasuke, no doubt. Upon seeing him, she froze and looked for a place to hide. (Instead of using her expert kunoichi skills, because—well, just because.)

"Sakura." Before she knew it, though, he had already made it to her. "How are you today?"

Frowning, she crossed her arms and looked away. "How my day is isn't your concern anymore." But he was looking gorgeous today…

(Not that he didn't usually look gorgeous.)

"And why is that?" Itachi raised a delicate eyebrow. "Today is our six month anniversary, is it not?" How could he still think that they were together? She clearly dumped him yesterday! This was why she hated Uchihas…

"We broke up yesterday," she said, frowning. "Are you stupid?"

"You clearly left before I could explain anything to you." It was a little unnerving, how he could talk about this so calmly with a bag of tomatoes in his hand. If it was any other situation, it would've been comical. "Would you give me the time of day to?"

"Well…" She looked away. "Maybe."

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel about the smirk on his lips.

**x**

"So let me get this straight," she said, sitting up straighter on one of the couches in his living room. "She was your…counsellor?"

"Yes." Itachi leaned back in his seat across from her.

"For _what_?"

He looked at her evenly for a long moment before answering. "Females."

She blinked. "Females," she echoed.

"One female, to be exact. You."

The idea was so far-fetched, she wasn't sure if she should believe it. But then again, this was Uchiha Itachi she was dealing with—anything was possible. Quite literally. "Why?"

"You were making a large fuss about today." At this point, he looked away. "I was…insecure, for the lack of a better word, that I wouldn't meet your expectations."

What expectations?

"So what, you use another girl as a dummy to practice?" she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms and leaning back. Despite being one of the most promising members of the ANBU, his stupidity really shone through at moments like this.

"That's another way to put it, yes."

"You sicken me."

"Oh?" He looked amused. "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sakura wasn't sure if she could allow her boyfriend to do something as ridiculous as seeing a counsellor for dating problems—but it was Itachi, and Itachi was different from everyone else. And that was why she liked him. (He even had the ability to talk, after all.)

"Just this once, okay?" she said indignantly. "I won't forgive you if you ever do it again!"

His trademark smirk appeared again as he stood up from the couch. "Of course." With that, he crossed the short distance between them and caught her lips in a kiss.

Right. So this was why she went out with him.

Counsellor or not, Sakura wasn't letting him go.

"So," she said once he pulled away for them to breathe, "what else did that woman teach you?"

**

* * *

A/N:** Somehow, I feel like this one isn't very strong. The idea was vague, and it was conveyed poorly. But nevertheless, I hope you guys liked it!

Oh, and I have Twitter! If you guys would like to follow me (and my stupid, pointless life), the link is on my profile. :3


	26. prelude

**predictable**  
034. prelude

* * *

"You know, this was bound to happen." Kisame laughed. "You're the Sannin Tsunade's apprentice—it was inevitable that we'd get you."

The girl—because that was all she was, Itachi thought—glared daggers at him. "What do you mean?" Her voice was dripping with venom.

"It's much too obvious of an idea to make you heal this dude's eyes." His partner pointed towards him, and Itachi averted his gaze elsewhere, wondering how those trees would look once the clarity in his vision was restored.

"You're crazy if you think I'm going to work with you," Sakura spat.

Itachi's eyes narrowed, and in the blink of an eye, he was behind her, the deadly blade of a kunai pressing against her neck and cutting her skin. "One would do many things when her life is at stake."

And as he lay down on the grass and she pressed her fingers to his temples, feeling the way her chakra flowed through his system, he felt that this was the beginning to something very big and incomprehensible.

**x**

"I'm _what_?" When her jaw dropped, Itachi noticed that her mouth was just as big as her forehead.

"Do not make me repeat myself, or we might change our minds." Letting her go free wasn't something Kisame had been up for; Itachi had to struggle immensely to find legitimate reasons to let her go instead of just killing her. For the first time in his life, he actually wasn't sure if what he was doing was right.

"Oh. Okay." She swallowed. "Thanks."

He looked away, appearing to look indifferent as he studied a tree. He could see it all so clearly now; the patterns of the bark, each individual leaf—he used to just see blurs of color.

"Um, just so you know," she continued, voice rushed and a little more high-pitched than normal—why couldn't she just leave?—"I really appreciate this. And you were really cooperative with me—I know it must've been hard for someone like you to lay down for hours and let this girl touch you without slicing her up, so I'd just like to say thanks for your time and patience—"

"_Go._"

She squeaked in fear. "Right. Um. Bye."

And even as she disappeared, Itachi could tell there was something big was going to happen soon.

**x**

He didn't count time. Time was unimportant. So he wasn't sure how many years later it was when they met again.

She looked a little more frightened than she should've been, considering that she had once shared sleeping space and time and meals with him, but it was understandable; he was still dangerous. He was still Uchiha Itachi.

"We're not really enemies, right?" she asked meekly, voice small.

And he didn't consider her an enemy. Akatsuki had fallen apart, and he was rumored to be dead, therefore removing him from Konoha's bingo book. He was technically still a threat to her village, but as long as he remained "dead", he was safe.

"No," he said after a moment of contemplation.

The smile on her lips was faint. "Good. So I can do this with a smaller chance of death, right?" And before he could respond, or even ask what she was talking about, she stood on her tiptoes, placed her hands on his shoulders for support and pressed her lips chastely to his.

When she pulled away, he looked at her for a long moment.

"Your interest hasn't died down, I see," he finally settled on saying.

She looked startled. "You knew?"

He wasn't stupid. Of course he knew. "You wear your heart on your sleeve."

A pregnant pause hung in the air. "Oh." Her hands were behind her back, and she shuffled on her feet. "I'm…sorry."

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What was she apologizing for? "You're forgiven." They stood in a silence she must've found awkward for the next few moments while he had a mental battle with himself.

There was no doubt that Sakura had been attracted to him all of those years ago, when she was healing his eyes. Even with his poor vision, he caught the slight anticipation in her features every time it was due for another healing session. He found her stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. (But he was always looking. Especially at her.)

The question was—was he willing to take the risk and express what he wanted as well?

His smirk was automatic.

Sasuke fell with Akatsuki. Everything he had ever worked towards fell with Akatsuki. There was nothing left now.

Nothing left, perhaps, except for her.

Placing his fingers on her chin and lifting her head up to face him, he slanted his mouth against hers, much harder and more passionate than her kiss by any amount.

And this was just the beginning.

**

* * *

A/N:** In the beginning, I wanted to convey that the idea of kidnapping Sakura to heal Itachi's eyes was overly cliché, and people should stop using the idea. (But I'm a hypocrite, because I use it a lot, too.) I feel that this one didn't stand out very much, but I'm not sure why.


	27. hello

**countdown**  
003. hello

**

* * *

v.**

Who was he? That cloaked man with dark hair and blood-red eyes. He had a sinister air to him, intimidating to the point where he was almost attractive.

Until she heard his name breathed from Naruto's lips.

"Uchiha Itachi."

Her blood ran cold at his voice—or hot, technically—as she felt indescribable anger boil in her veins. So this was the man who ruined Sasuke's life. This oddly beautiful man ruined her first love's life.

She couldn't forgive him.

But before she even got a chance to lay a single finger on him, he disappeared.

They didn't even speak.

Sakura gritted her teeth. One day, she promised—one day, she was going to kill him with her bare hands.

**iv.**

On a solo mission to gather some herbs from the Grass Country, only about two days' worth of walking from Konoha, she found him again.

He was sitting on a boulder, legs crossed. His cloak was folded neatly and placed beside him. It looked like he was meditating. It also looked like he was alone.

When she returned, she never told anyone.

**iii.**

Although she never admitted it, when Akatsuki ambushed Konoha, he was the first person she looked for.

And she never did find him; she was so busy healing and fighting and healing some more, that if he walked by her, chakra completely unmasked, she might not have even noticed him. She wouldn't have had the chance to tell him how much she hated him and how captivating he was when he meditated, or even how she didn't know how to mangle his body when she got the chance—

But when the battle finally died down, and she was so exhausted, she left the village to a quiet, untouched clearing nearby, to find him there. And for some reason, his crimson eyes, so menacing and so, _so_ lonely, only made her eyelids feel heavier.

Neither said a word as he sat down soundlessly beside her.

She slept peacefully.

**ii.**

She couldn't stop. She gasped as she gulped for air, unable to stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.

Naruto. _Her_ Naruto. Her dearest, dearest Naruto—

Gone.

And _he_ was right there, regarding her with those belittling eyes as she struggled to even stand on her own two feet as she felt the despair grabbing at her and pulling her down into its depths. She couldn't quiet down, couldn't think, couldn't _breathe_—

He placed a single hand on top of her head.

She looked up at him, vision blurred by her tears, and all she could do was grit her teeth, because it was _him_, people like _him_ that her best friend was _dead_—

The sound of bones cracking was sickly satisfying as she punched his face, sending him several yards away. He landed on his feet and raised a hand to his jaw, regarding her blankly.

But that was all he did.

**i.**

And she wasn't quite sure what she was doing, but she just couldn't stay. She couldn't stay in that village ruled by Danzo without suffocating.

She took a long leave, to the outskirts of the Fire Country, where no shinobi lived. She had to get away. She needed time.

She found him and his partner, donning their cloaks and scratched hitai-ate, but did nothing more but narrow her eyes and bring a hand to her holster. Because she had lost the will to fight for justice a long time ago—whatever justice was.

His partner snickered. "You were right. I'll just take a piss somewhere."

And then all too suddenly, they were alone. And it felt like there was a groundbreaking, gravitational pull between them, that only sharpened her senses with each step she took—

And she was set on fire when his body was pressed against hers, when his cold hands held her face, when his lips moved against hers in a passionate dance. It was like beauty and victory and almost, _almost_ love.

She swallowed when they pulled apart, not feeling a hint of fear as she looked up at him. "Hi," she said breathlessly.

His tone was lilting. "Hello."

**

* * *

A/N:** I don't know.

I'm back! (Ha, ha, ha…) School has been kicking my ass. Quite victoriously. So I apologize for not updating for so long.

(That, and I have been writing a _lot_ of SasuSaku. Heh.)


	28. broken

**names**  
068. broken

* * *

"May I ask your name?"

"I don't think my name is important."

"And why's that?"

"Because in the end, my name doesn't define me, right? My name could be that of a princess or that of a commoner, and I'd still be me."

"Then how am I supposed to refer to you, if you don't give me a name?"

"Well, you could think of me as the girl with the big forehead, or the girl with the pink hair, or the girl with the green eyes, or even the girl who babbles or the girl who's just a little odd, or the girl who wishes for something more."

"That is all very hard on the tongue."

"Well, think of something shorter. I think I'm going to think of you as the boy who is too proper."

"Proper?"

"Yeah. On the surface, you're all appearances and manners, but on the inside, I think you're just like me. Your eyes are sad and your lips are cemented into this permanent frown, and it feels like all you want is for everything to end, because if I look really closely, it seems like you're breaking from the inside out."

"That might be the case. I think I'll name you Sakura."

"It's because of my hair, isn't it?"

"No. It's because you're like a single cherry blossom, similar to the others, but still an individual. And once you fall from your branch, you're only beautiful for a short moment before you fade away."

"Because really, I'm no better than the next girl over."

"Correct."

"I like that name. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

**

* * *

A/N:** I know what happens in the anime, since I read the manga, but the most recent episodes kill me. Again and again and again. Oh, Itachi. I still can't believe you're gone. I love you.


	29. pie

**the size of my what?**  
008. pie

* * *

Sakura was jolted awake when she heard a crash in the next room over. Her eyes shot open and _oh no, Itachi wasn't lying beside her—someone discovered them together but really what were the chances of that, considering they were in a country with no shinobi?_

She and Itachi had purchased a small house, saving it for when things were finally right. Once a year, Sakura took a two-week leave to "travel"—and they spent those two weeks there, together—alone, and at peace.

So _who the hell was in the kitchen_?

Yawning widely, she grabbed a kunai off of her bedside table (one could never bee too cautious) and crept silently out of the bedroom and down the hall, peeking into the kitchen.

And there Itachi was, clad in his black t-shirt and boxers, moving soundlessly as he picked up two pans from the floor to place them back in their proper places in the dish rack. She watched in utter awe as he made his way to the fridge, his hand on the handle. He looked around, as if expecting something, before opening the fridge and pulling something out.

It was the pie that they were going to eat tomorrow, to celebrate five years of this risky and dangerous relationship.

Then it hit her. He was going to eat their _pie_! By himself! That jerk!

The moment before his knife cut into the pastry, her kunai whizzed past his hand and embedded itself into the table, right beside the pie. He looked up and regarded her evenly as she stepped out from behind the corner, glaring at him maliciously.

"That is _our_ pie," she said slowly. "_Our_ pie. Not _your_ pie."

He was still for a long moment, before he put the knife down. "Of course," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I wasn't planning to eat it."

Oh, hah. As if she'd fall for that.

"Yeah, _right_," she said sarcastically, stalking over to him and snatching the knife off the table and waving it at his face threateningly. "If I hadn't woken up from your stupid blundering, you would've eaten it all, and said that someone mugged us during the night."

"You read me like a book," he said, just as sarcastic. "Would you like me to tell you a secret?"

"No," she retorted—but she was curious, and she knew he could tell.

"I was actually going to slip this into it." He pulled a box out from the pockets of his boxers (what the hell, boxers had _pockets_?). Her eyes narrowed at it.

"If that's a poison, and you've secretly been dating me as a spy for Akatsuki after all of these years, I swear to God, you do not want to know the things that I'll do to you after telling Sasuke how small your penis is—"

"If you would let me finish my sentence," he said, cutting her off abruptly, "I said that I was going to slip this into the pie." He flipped open the box, and she stared at it. Even in the dark of the night, she could still see the way it shimmered a little from the moonlight shining in from the window.

It was a ring. Her mouth hung open in utter shock.

Then she fainted.

* * *

When she woke up, she found Itachi lying beside her, eyes soft and one of his hands playing with her hair. It was moments like these that were bliss.

"Good morning," he said lightly, pulling in to kiss her. She responded sleepily and sluggishly, but smiled when he pulled away, and cuddled up against him.

She sighed, content. "Good morning."

They lay there for a long while, and she was happy with just listening to him breathe. She was about to fall asleep again until he moved against her, taking her hand in his. "About last night," he murmured into her hair. "How do you feel about it?"

"Hm? About what?" She didn't remember what happened last night—oh.

Oh.

"Well, about that…" Her cheeks flared, and she was glad he couldn't see her face. "What's the ring for?"

There was a moment of silence. "For one of the most renowned medics in all of the shinobi nations, you're rather thick."

"Whatever," she grumbled. "You're Itachi. I can't just jump to conclusions." Which meant—wait, what the hell, he _proposed_ to her? "Wait—so you proposed to me?" She pulled back a little so she can stare at him in horror.

"I'm not getting very positive feedback," he said solemnly.

"Well, it's not that, but—seriously, you _proposed_?"

"Is that so difficult to believe?"

"Well, it's not that I don't want to marry you, but considering the situation right now…you're a wanted criminal, my teammate is out to kill you, and my village wants your head. It's not exactly…the best way to start a marriage."

"Marriage isn't about what's around us," he said, lips curving into a smirk. "It's about what's inside."

She cringed. "God, Itachi, that was so corny." He only chuckled and pulled her in for another kiss. And before she knew it, the ring was on her finger. Dammit, he was a sneaky one. She sighed. "I suppose that's a yes."

"I wouldn't have taken any other answer." His warmth promptly disappeared as he stood up and stretched. "Would you like some pie?"

Grinning, she mimicked his actions. "That sounds good."

It was silent as he cut the pastry in the kitchen. "So," he said lightly, "what was that you said last night about the size of my penis?"

**

* * *

A/N:** DAMMIT I'M SO SORRY, I ALWAYS FORGET TO UPDATE THIS. SORRY SORRY SORRY!

I hope this made up for it. D:


	30. failure

**bloody tears**  
047. failure

(_au. heh._)

* * *

Every weekday at five in the afternoon, there would be a girl on the subway. She was easy to spot—she had bright pink hair, unlike anyone else's. Itachi came across her frequently, but had never spoken to her. They were like subway acquaintances.

Sometimes, she would get on and slump into her usual seat, falling asleep right away. He assumed that she was a university student, always staying up late, studying. Sometimes, she would plug in her earphones and listen to her music. Today was different. Today, she stalked into the subway car, angry tears streaming down her cheeks, and sat down in her usual seat with a rough _thump_. He could hear her sporadic breaths even from where he was sitting.

When five minutes passed, and then ten, he finally reached into his bag and found a clean handkerchief. He stood up and made his way to her, offering it to her.

"You seem to have had a bad day," he said when she looked at him questioningly, wiping her tears away. She ended up hiccupping, sucking in gulps of air and crying all over again. She accepted his handkerchief, and hastily wiped her eyes with it.

"Thanks." Her breathing was shallow and her voice was shaking—so he sat across from her, crossing his legs. "You don't have to stay, you know. I'll return this tomorrow."

"When I see someone in distress, I cannot possibly leave them—what if they go and commit suicide once I turn my back? Then it would be my fault, and I don't like having someone's death on my shoulders for the rest of my life."

"I'm not going to commit suicide, though…" She sniffed, clearly not catching his subtle attempt at a joke. "I just had a bad day. A really bad day."

"That much is apparent." He would ask if she would like to talk about it, but he knew from personal experience that she probably wouldn't—and with a stranger, no less—so he remained silent as she stared out the window. When it came to her stop, she gathered her belongings and smiled a little at him, before stepping out the doors.

Itachi found that he couldn't stop thinking about her for the rest of the day.

* * *

Sasuke seethed. "Don't think I can forgive you," he hissed, expression contorted into one of fury. "Mother, Father—!"

"Have been dead for many years," Itachi calmly finished for him.

"You killed them with your bare _hands_." He was never able to tell if he liked or disliked how Sasuke hated him. It'd been years of this—hatred and anger and loathing—and maybe today, it'll all end. Just maybe.

The first punch landed right on Itachi's jaw, and he felt a couple of his teeth loosening. Sasuke's hands wrapped threateningly around his neck—which didn't count for much, considering that Itachi was taller than him, and therefore couldn't be lifted off of his feet the way he should've been. But the murderous intent was genuine, and he had to commend him for that.

"They had it coming for them," he said evenly, staring his little brother straight in the eye without faltering. Sasuke's eyes narrowed further, and one of his hands let go of his neck and punched him again, letting Itachi's knees buckle from underneath him.

He crumpled to the ground, and Sasuke took this opportunity to kick his gut repeatedly. Eventually, he found himself coughing up blood.

Finally. Things were the way they should be. His lips stretched into grim smile—and when Sasuke noticed, he scowled, stepping away.

"I'm not going to do what you expect me to do," he snarled. "If what you want is death, you're not going to die by my hands. I'll let you live on pathetically. Like the way did to me."

And then he left. And Itachi had never felt bitterer.

* * *

When he entered the subway, he made a beeline for his regular seat. Perhaps he'd take a nap here. His stomach hurt a little every time he breathed, and he couldn't stop prodding his loose teeth with his tongue. He closed his eyes, sighing.

"Excuse me." He stirred from his spot—he hadn't even realized he fell asleep. When he opened his eyes and blinked to adjust to the light, he saw the pink-haired girl.

"Hello," he said, voice raspy. His jaw was sore.

"You seem to have had a bad day," she said, sliding into the seat across from him, and holding out a handkerchief. His handkerchief. "Here. You have some blood on your chin."

So he accepted it, and they sat in silence.

**

* * *

A/N:** I want to make it a priority for me to update this bimonthly, or something…but I feel bad for spamming those who have me on alerts. I write too much for my own good. I should earn a profit, or something.

I'll try to update more often, I promise!


	31. radio

**discretion**  
094. radio

(_another au, yay!_)

* * *

Within a couple of months of opening his club, he had begun to notice some regular customers.

Every Friday and Saturday night, there would be one girl—very unique and easy to pick from the crowd, with her bright pink hair and even brighter eyes. She would only dance to the songs that were currently popular on the radio—and when she did, there was often a space left for her on the dance floor. She was petit and thin. Her hair was always let down, and when she danced, her arms would be up in the air, and she would go through several male partners, never once looking at them.

Despite being the manager, he worked at the bar. He liked to see what was happening at his club—and he liked what he saw. When he had the time, he would personally make a playlist for her, full of songs that he knew she'd dance to.

And dance she did. It pleased him greatly.

And one Friday night, he finally passed on the job of the bartender to one of his trusted friends, and sat at the bar as a customer, watching her dance. The colorful lights splayed across her pale skin; signs of perspiration could be seen on her forehead and she was panting hard, but she was still the most captivating thing in the room.

Finally, when he finished his beer, he slipped between the sweaty bodies until he was right in front of her. She flashed him a smile that only lasted for a moment—like a spark, like fireworks—before she pressed up right against him, her body moving against his. His hands fell onto her waist, and he followed her easily.

It didn't take much for him to realize that she was beautiful.

"May I asked for your name?" he whispered in her ear as he bent down. She smelled like alcohol and sweat and maybe even hopelessness.

She looked up at him, eyes flashing. Green, he noted. Very green.

"Names don't matter," she said huskily as she pulled him close, kissing him hard on the mouth. He responded accordingly; only using his tongue when she pried apart his lips, his hands staying politely at he waist. Hers found the back of his neck and only pressed him against her harder.

She didn't even taste like alcohol. She tasted like Sprite. And that only spiked his interest more.

They eventually stopped dancing altogether and they stood there, connected at the lips. He could feel people brushing into them from all around, but all he could do was concentrate on not running his hands through her hair or picking her up off her feet and bringing her somewhere more private.

"Has anyone told you you're beautiful?" And he was surprised, because that was what he wanted to say to her.

"A man, beautiful?"

"Have you never heard of such thing?" Her tone was light and teasing—and he realized that he liked listening to it.

"Usually, men are considered handsome," he responded, lips grazing over the shell of her ear. She shivered, but it didn't stop her from dancing. "_Beautiful_ is a term used for women."

"Then you should feel very honored. Men rarely possess the grace of a woman."

They said nothing after that, and began dancing once more. All of his responsibilities for the rest of the evening were wiped from his mind—it seemed like she was the only one who could do that.

"Take me home?" she requested, eyes clouded over.

He watched her for a long moment—_yes, oh God, _yes—but let his hands leave her waist and hung politely at his sides.

"Maybe another night." He was unreadable as he slipped away between the masses of people.

He just had another idea for a playlist. And if there was anything better than spending one night with her, it would be watching her dance to something he had created.

**

* * *

A/N:** I'm not sure how to feel about this. It's been a while since I wrote about clubs and such.

THE NEXT ONE WILL BE EPIC. I PROMISE.


	32. unwanted

**morning, sunshine**  
058. unwanted

* * *

It was about a month into their marriage when she found out.

Personally, Sakura had no idea how he could've hid it from her for so long—and considering they'd been living together for long before that. He really was the stealthiest of shinobi.

It was about five in the morning—an hour she'd never even consider being awake at, unless it was for a mission. She woke up, due to having taken a long nap the day before. (She couldn't help it. The couch was so comfortable, and the sunlight coming in from the window was so warm…)

When she rolled over to cuddle into Itachi's arms, she found that her husband wasn't there. Frowning, she pried open her eyes—and found the bathroom door slightly ajar, with light pouring out from the cracks. Wondering what he could possibly be up to, she carefully masked her chakra and tiptoed soundlessly across the creaky floorboards. Only a shinobi could walk this way, and she was glad she was one.

The sight that laid before her when she pushed open the bathroom door was a little appalling, to say the least.

"Itachi—um…" Her mouth formed into several shapes, but she was unable to articulate a coherent sentence. He looked at her, appearing slightly pained and embarrassed—which, for him, really, meant that he was _humiliated_—

"Good morning, Sakura."

"Morning. Um. I didn't know you straightened your hair…?" Well, really, it wasn't the fact that he straightened his hair that was a problem—in fact, it wasn't at all surprising—it was the fact that the half of his hair that hadn't been straightened yet was—_wavy_.

"Everyone tends to their hair somehow," he replied lightly, continuing on with his straightening. She couldn't help but stare in awe when the lock of hair that was previously wavy in such a beautiful manner become straight.

"But—but why do you straighten it? It looks amazing when it's wavy!"

"It doesn't fit with my facial structure." He sounded strained.

"Oh. Well. _I_ think it looks good." She shuffled on her feet awkwardly. When she woke up, he would always be asleep beside her—so he must purposely get up earlier in the morning to straighten his hair, before returning to bed. It must've been a touchy subject for him. "Would you like me to straighten it for you?" she asked.

He quirked a delicate eyebrow at her. "I appreciate the offer, but I question your ability with a hair straightener."

She waved it off. "I don't straighten my own hair, but I've done it for Ino enough. She has wavy hair too, did you know? But I don't think she's as paranoid about it as you are." Itachi looked slightly miffed at this, but handed her the straightener nonetheless. Smiling softly, she took a lock of wavy hair and got to work.

It was quiet for a few minutes, until he said quietly, "Thank you."

"Oh, don't," she said, quite happily. "This is going to make _great_ blackmail."

**

* * *

A/N:** I told you it'd be epic, right? RIGHT? 8D

A fast update because I always feel so bad for only updating this monthly. D:


	33. hope

**compromises**  
017. hope

* * *

Wars, Sakura realized, were terrible things.

The last ninja war that had ended when she was about six months old. She had no memories of it—and since then, there hadn't been another one. Akatsuki, however, changed that.

At the age of twenty-four, after the organization's all-out attack on Konoha, it had triggered the attack of the other hidden villages. They all immediately headed towards Konoha, where Akatsuki was, not giving them a chance to escape. And although the organization was demolished, there was still a member or two living in refuge.

And Konoha? Konoha was destroyed.

She couldn't count the number of losses. The number of friends whose bodies they never found—the number of lives she couldn't save. She didn't even want to count anymore.

Naruto was missing.

She wanted to think he was missing—because if he wasn't missing, then he was dead. And that was much worse.

Most Leaf-nin took refuge in Suna. Some were determined to rebuild Konoha. Others were convinced that it couldn't be possible. And with a history that contained so many lies and bloodshed, it might've just been for the better.

Sakura took to wandering. She needed time before she faced people again—she needed to gather herself. Society had enough broken people as it was.

She would take random missions from wealthy clans—most of them being dirtier than most. But it earned her money, and it helped her get by—and that was enough. She travelled from village to village—some oblivious to the entire concept of shinobi.

That was where she met him. His Sharingan was turned off, and he no longer had his cloak—his hitai-ate was gone as well—it made him almost unrecognizable at a glance. But how could she not recognize him? This man, who she'd never even spoken to once, had altered her life so much. Made Sasuke leave Konoha. Made everyone suffer. How could one person affect so many people?

"Uchiha." She cleared her throat. He stopped walking, but didn't look back at her. "I would've assumed you dead."

"Such kind words at a first meeting," he replied lightly, "Haruno." It surprised her just a little that he knew her name—but then again, why should it? Uchiha Itachi always had surprises up his sleeve.

She walked away after that—but paid her innkeeper for another night's rent.

She stayed, when she planned to go.

And the next day, she saw him again. Again, they stopped in the middle of the street, not looking at each other. Again, they spoke. Again, she wished she could just kill this man.

But how could she kill the first sign of familiarity that she'd seen in years? How could she kill the only thing she recognized anymore? She was so tired of everything. So tired of death and despair and just _life_.

"My eyesight"—his voice was like silk to her ears—"is rapidly deteriorating."

She contemplated his words. "I am still one of the best medics in all five nations."

There was a pause. "I am not stocked up on money."

"I don't want money," she said, perhaps a little too quickly. It was then that he turned his head to look at her for the first time. His eyes were almost as empty as Sasuke's. It frightened her.

"What is it that you want?"

She swallowed. "Company. Comfort. Reassurance." Maybe something to believe in. Although he wasn't really the person to ask—there was no one else.

His words were full of slow contemplation. "I can offer that."

Something told Sakura that she should've regretted it. It didn't surprise her that it didn't.

* * *

It started out as weekly meetings. She had to move to a cheaper inn to sustain herself.

"It was a smart idea for you to turn off your Sharingan," she murmured, exploring his eyes with her chakra, mapping it out in her mind with what she found. "Please switch back and forth from your Mangekyo to your normal eye."

She'd need to take the occasional mission to keep her finances stable. Some of them landed her big money, but she'd need days to recover.

He came knocking at her door one of those times.

"Sorry," she muttered, crawling out of bed. "Just let me wash my face, and we can begin…"

"We need a more efficient plan than this." He helped her make her bed while she was in the bathroom. She watched him warily in the reflection of the mirror, but her guard around him was slowly slipping. It was just so tiring to be tense and ready to fight for hours at a time.

"We both have sporadic schedules," she replied. "It can't be much more efficient than this."

Once the bed was made, he pulled a chair over to its side, and laid on the bed, as they had done numerous times before. "Medic," he said slowly. "In our first session, you said it was impossible for you to completely heal my eyes. Would it be considered worth it that I still returned weekly just for this?"

"Better to halt the damage than to let it continue." The tap turned off. That, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, she didn't want to be alone again.

He seemed to understand this. "I see."

Hours later, when his hand was on her doorknob, ready to leave, he said one thing: "Perhaps it would be easier for us to live in closer proximity to each other."

After two weeks of contemplation, she moved in with him. But for the majority of those two weeks, she had already decided _yes_.

* * *

She became very well-known in the village. _Hands of magic,_ they described her. _They can heal injuries in impossible ways. Like the hands of God._

A small clinic was set up for her to work. She didn't have to take as many missions anymore.

It reminded her of Konoha, in a bittersweet way. More bitter than it was sweet.

And Itachi became her companion. A sidekick, if you will. To the people of the village, they were friends, siblings, lovers. _Something._ No one would've guessed that just a year ago, they were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum.

"Do you ever think of Sasuke?" she asked one day, gaze lingering on the tomatoes in the market a tad too long.

He took one of said tomatoes and tossed a coin to the man behind the stand. "Do you?"

"Sometimes." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Not as often anymore, though. It's hard to think that it's been years since—since he left."

"Since he died," he corrected her.

"Since you killed him," she countered.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before her gaze dropped to her feet. She brushed past him, continuing through the market, looking for some vegetables that'd last them the week.

He kept up with her, staying by her side the entire time.

* * *

It was one day when she was hunched over him, chakra soothing his eyes, when she was overcome with the urge to cry. She stopped her chakra flow, in fear of accidentally doing more damage than good.

"Is something the matter?" His words were guarded. Her hands clenched into fists, eyes shut tight.

"Don't you feel it sometimes?" Her voice shook. "When the world is just crushing you, and you're about to break under its weight?"

He sat up. If she bothered to look at him, she would've seen his hand hovering over her head, as if wondering if he should pat it or not. "You get used to it eventually," he said softly. "And it's not as bad when you're not alone."

She couldn't imagine how it would feel if he wasn't there.

* * *

It hit her one day, how natural all of it was for her. Taking the occasional mission, working in her clinic, treating Itachi's eyes—how it all just fell into place in a routine. Having meals together in a tranquil silence, gazing at the books in the bookstore with him by her side—

It would've been frightening, if it wasn't comforting.

"This can't continue," she said one day, chopping up the carrots with more vigor than necessary. "This isn't—this isn't _right_."

He was peeling the potatoes. "What _is_ right these days?"

She had nothing to counter with, so she said nothing. This couldn't be right. She was planning to live in Suna once things had settled down—but she was settling down just fine here. Soon, rumors and talk about her "magic hands" would reach back to the hidden villages—and everyone would know that she was living in peace with Uchiha Itachi. No doubt she would be a wanted criminal then.

Maybe it was already too late to go back.

"Do you regret this?" she asked softly.

He took his time answering. "Do _you_?"

"Stop countering my questions with more questions." She gathered the chopped up carrots in her hands and moved beside him to toss them into the large pot. They were having stew tonight.

Wasn't this man supposed to be frightening? Didn't she want to kill him?

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth." She looked at him, jaw set. She hated how his eyes were so blank. "What you really feel."

He snorted softly. "I stopped feeling long ago."

"I don't believe that." Her hands clenched into fists. "Of course you feel. You just don't show it."

His lips turned upwards in a small smirk. "Is that so?"

"Of course," she said fiercely.

"Then prove it." There was an amused lilt to his tone—a flash of challenge in his eyes. That alone meant that he felt something.

She scowled. "How do you expect me to do that?"

His shoulders barely moved, but she'd become so accustomed to him that she knew it was a shrug. "However you expect me to feel most."

She could've said that what she did next was surprising, but it wasn't, really. Her eyes narrowed at his challenge, and without a moment's thought or hesitation, she stood on her tiptoes and crashed their mouths together. It wasn't as much of an emotional thing than it was a physical—proving that he _could_ feel, he _was_ feeling, and _she_ was the one making all of it happen.

He responded instantly, lips clumsy on hers. She clutched his shoulders hard, nails almost digging into his skin.

It was purely a physical thing. She felt no emotional attachment towards this man when they stumbled clumsily into the bedroom, when he tugged off his shirt, when she ran her hands over the flat planes of his chest.

But despite that, she didn't regret a thing.

* * *

"You regret this." They were still in bed together, but were careful not to touch each other.

"No." Her fingers clenched the sheets, and she stared at the ceiling. "This was not a mistake." The sexual tension had been building between them for weeks—it was impossible for it not to be there, when they lived together, when she touched her fingers to his temples once a week. When he had a habit of only bringing his boxers into the bathroom, so he'd come out of his shower with his hair damp, only wearing the bare minimum. Sometimes, she thought he did it on purpose. Now, she was sure he did.

It was obvious he had thought this through. He wouldn't have responded so quickly otherwise.

"What is 'this', exactly?" His foot bumped hers, and she twitched. He pulled away, but she wasn't sure if she wanted that or not.

"I…don't know." But she knew one thing: there was no going back. It was exhilarating, almost—she didn't deny that he made her feel as well. She couldn't recall the last time things felt even remotely close to right—but with this man, right here—somehow, it _was_ right.

"What do you want it to be?"

She closed her eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Just…nothing." Saying it was something meant that it mattered to her. And whether it was the sex, or the way he made her feel when he groaned her name once he came, she couldn't let this get to her. This was Uchiha Itachi. He _couldn't_ mean something to her.

But somewhere in the back of her mind, it did.

* * *

Purely physical. Purely physical. It was her new mantra.

It became a new part of their routine. When he returned from random missions—which would usually last for days—the events that followed would progress like so:

"How was it? Any major injuries?"

"Nothing fatal. And the clinic?"

"Just a couple of scraped knees and fevers. Nothing I can't handle."

And he would promptly slam her against the nearest object and cut to the chase.

Sakura never knew sex to be so…exciting, to say the least. She supposed you could learn new things even at this age. And slowly, her logic slipped away—she stopped reminding herself that Itachi was dangerous, stopped wondering when she would go to Suna. She didn't want to go anymore.

Purely physical. Purely physical.

But was it?

"I found a mission," he said one evening, when they were having dinner, "that would provide us with enough money to sustain us for a month. But I can't do it alone."

She looked at him evenly. "You want me to go with you."

"Yes."

Sitting back in her chair, she cracked her knuckles, smiling wryly. "Well, I haven't gotten any actual action in a while. Sure."

* * *

Blood, Sakura decided, looked terrible on him.

"You are _not_ dying," she said, gritting her teeth together. "God dammit, you are not leaving me alone."

"He got my stomach and liver." Itachi's voice was strained. "Even you can't fix all of that damage before it's too late."

"_Uchiha_," she hissed, increasing the flow of chakra from her palms, "if you die, I swear to God, I will kill you in your next life." She didn't know why she was so frantic with saving him—there was just something in the back of her mind that insisted that he couldn't die. He just couldn't.

"It's a rather delayed death, don't you think?" he said, almost wistfully. "I was supposed to die by Sasuke's hands."

"Oh, boohoo," she spat. "You survived. How sad." Why wouldn't the cells heal faster? Why couldn't his tissues close quicker? Perspiration dotted her forehead.

His smirk didn't reach his eyes. "Why are you so desperate to save me? Was the sex that good?" She was about to open her mouth to snap at him, but the words caught in her throat. It wasn't just the sex, was it? It wasn't all about the way he touched her or how he sounded under the cloak of darkness.

She knew this all along, but she just never wanted to acknowledge it.

Somehow, she had opened Itachi. She knew him. Knew him, like no one ever knew him. Maybe she didn't know about his past or his intentions for the massacre—but she knew he liked cabbage and dango, and that he liked sleeping in on Saturday mornings. She could read him like an open book, even though no one thought there was something written on his face. She knew when he was upset and needed space, she knew when he was upset and wanted the presence of another. She just _knew_ him.

"This is no time to talk about sentiments, Itachi." Her brow furrowed, the output of her chakra increasing again. She wasn't one of the best medics in all five shinobi nations for nothing.

"I don't believe I'll be fit to talk when I'm dead."

"Shut up. You're not dying."

"You should stop wasting your energy—"

"I said shut up."

* * *

It was a little after midnight when she crept into his room, kneeling at his bedside.

"Listen." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I know you're a really light sleeper, but I hope you don't hear this—and if you're actually awake, you'd better just continue to pretend you're asleep, because I need to get this out." He didn't respond. "Good. So first off, I _did_ save you, you asshole—did you have that little faith in me? I mean, a good part of your liver is gone, but it'll grow back eventually…and until then, I'll just help your body along with removing the toxins."

She thought she saw his lashes flutter for a moment, but chose to ignore it.

"When you said you were about to die—honestly, I was really scared. And no, the sex wasn't that good. Well, I mean, it _was_—but that wasn't why I was so scared, you know?" She took a deep, shaky breath. "You mean something to me, Itachi. I don't know what, I don't know how, and I don't know why—but you do. And I trust you enough not to kill me when my back is turned now—so just—so…please don't make me lose that trust." She softly pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, and tiptoed out of the room.

She didn't know why though, because she was sure he was awake.

* * *

She wasn't anywhere near bold _or_ stupid enough to say that she loved him—but it certainly felt that way.

"I'm going to Suna." She set her jaw determinedly. This couldn't continue any longer. He was going to break her from the inside out, whether he wanted to or not.

The faintest frown tugged at his lips. "There is nothing for you there."

"And you think there's something for me here?" she countered. She knew she hit a soft spot, with the way his gaze hardened. "Itachi, let's admit it. This is wrong. No matter how honest this seems for either of us, it's _wrong_. This can't continue."

"Konoha is gone," he said faintly, looking at something that wasn't her.

"So?"

"And so is Akatsuki."

"What's your point?"

"My point, Sakura"—his gaze returned to her, and she felt a shiver go down her spine—"is that neither of us can possibly be blamed for being affiliated with each other. You gave no promises to Suna. What I have done to Konoha doesn't matter now, as it's destroyed."

She pursed her lips. "I can't do anything to help your eyes anymore."

"It's better to halt the damage than to let it continue," he said, quoting the same words she had spoken so long ago.

"Yeah, but I'm doing nothing but imposing on you now. I'm taking advantage of your side of the deal." She was just grappling for excuses now, and both of them knew it.

"Loving you," he said suddenly—and she froze, because the most taboo word just slipped from his lips—"has never been my intention. However"—he looked at her evenly—her breath caught in her throat, lips suddenly very dry.

"However?"

Something in his eyes flashed, and for the first time, she felt full, unbridled hope. "I'll manage."

**

* * *

A/N:** This one is so long. It's been a while since that happened. :O

Is this considered cliché? I don't know. I thought it was a little generic, but at the same time, pretty unique. But you guys probably read more fanfiction than I do.


	34. obsessions

**shopping spree! :D**  
043. obsessions

(_non-massacre, yay._)

* * *

As a child, Sakura enjoyed many things. Most of them were things other girls enjoyed—dolls, dresses, fairytales. She was generally easy to please. As she grew older, edging towards adolescence, she found a new interest—a hobby, she supposed—that had everyone groaning. If anyone complained, she said she got it from Ino.

_Shopping._

As a genin, she still had some time for shopping. She knew there'd come a time when having free time at all would be a leisure, so she took full advantage of it whenever it was available. And the _manpower_. It was _great_ to be on a team with three other men.

"Naruto, hold my bags!"

"I'm holding a hundred already, though! Get Sasuke to hold them!"

"Sasuke-kun's _busy_!"

"What the hell! He's freaking _checking his nails_!"

"Right, because you can totally see over the number of bags you're holding."

"That's exactly my point!"

As they were walking down the street, they crossed paths with two ANBU members. Both of them were well known—Uchiha Itachi and Shisui. They were talking light-heartedly, seemingly just having returned from a mission—but Sakura could sense Sasuke tense from a hundred miles away.

"Hello, little brother." Itachi smiled at her teammate, and she swooned. That was how Sasuke would look if he smiled, surely.

(And although her heart would forever belong to Sasuke, she couldn't deny that Uchiha Itachi was probably one of the most gorgeous men to have ever existed. He was the heartthrob of most of the women in Konoha. Probably mostly because he was one of the few Uchiha who smiled on a regular basis.)

Sasuke scoffed, and looked away. (Oh, what machismo.) "Have you reported to Father yet?"

"We're on our way right now." Itachi caught Sakura unabashedly staring at him. "Hello, Haruno-san."

She smiled dreamily. "Hi."

Somewhere behind her, Naruto collapsed under the weight of her bags.

* * *

She was sixteen, and she was _positive_ she needed a new signature look.

Her outfit of red and black suited her well—the sharp cuts and well-fitting shorts portrayed her personality well. But now that she thought about it—she'd looked this way for _years_. She needed a change. But who to shop with? Shopping alone wasn't any fun.

Ino groaned. "I'd _love_ to. Actually, I'd kill to. But both of my parents are away and I can't leave the shop. Go with Naruto, or something."

Sakura sighed. "He's away training with Jiraiya. Again."

"Mm. Sasuke?"

It was a moment of silence, and then she grinned. "Actually, that is a _very_ good idea."

"Remember to take pictures! There's no such thing as too much blackmail!"

* * *

Which was how she found herself in the Uchiha compound, knocking on Sasuke's door. For several minutes, no one answered, so she wondered if he was out. Just as she was about to leave, a little disappointed, the door opened.

"Sakura-san. Hello."

She smiled a little timidly, not seeing the face she expected to see. "Hi, Itachi. Is Sasuke-kun home?"

The older Uchiha frowned. "I believe he's out with our father. Is it urgent?"

"Oh, no, not really." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, cheeks flushing a little. What would he think of her if he knew that she came searching for Sasuke so he could go shopping with her? "I was just…looking for some company, is all. It's okay—maybe I'll come back later." Just as she was about to turn around and leave before she made a bigger fool of herself, he spoke up.

"I have some free time, if you do not mind me instead of my brother."

For a long moment, all she could do was stare. Did she hear him right? In all the years of knowing him, Itachi had never offered spending time with her for reasons unrelated to work.

"I—uh, sure," she said, before realizing how awkward it would be to spend time with him—even if it wasn't shopping.

Itachi smiled—the smile that always got the girls swooning. "What did you have an idea of what you wanted to do with Sasuke?"

"Uh"—she turned pale then, losing the blood in her cheeks as quickly as it came. "Nothing, really. Just some…friend things."

"And what might those things be?"

She looked up at him sheepishly. "Shopping?"

He seemed to genuinely contemplate this for a long moment, before nodding once. "I can manage that. Shopping for you, I assume?"

"It, uh, doesn't all have to be decided right now. Things can change as we go along. Sometimes, when I'm with Sasuke-kun, I find something that suits him." She didn't mention how Sasuke usually disappeared on those occasions, the moment she turned her back on him.

Itachi's lips curved into an imperceptible frown. "I see. Then shall we go?"

"Okay."

They received a variety of responses as they walked down the streets together. Some people gave them incredulous looks, some (particularly the young women) frowned in distaste (Sakura called it _envy_), and some giggled and pointed. That was how things used to be when she first began spending time with Sasuke outside of work, so she was used to it—but she didn't know how Itachi was taking it. (But judging from how apathetic he was, he should be fine.)

"I was thinking of getting a new look," she told him as they browsed the shops. "Maybe green this time, instead of red? There's a store down the street where they sell clothes specially for shinobi. Did you know?"

"Yes. I visit it from time to time."

She looked at him incredulously. "Really?"

"Of course." He frowned at her. "My mother doesn't shop for me anymore."

Right. Of course. That made sense. Why did she become such a moron around him? It was always like this, now that she thought about it. She just seemed to…forget things.

Despite her love for pretty dresses and dressing up, the shinobi store was probably her favorite place to shop at. It provided comfortable, well-fitting clothes that looked good, but allowed the wearer to fight without any problems as well. There were also customizable holsters and medic pouches—most of the accessories that shinobi needed were found here, too.

"Oh, hey." She picked up a mesh shirt. "Do you have any of these? I've never seen you wear one before."

Itachi stared at the article of clothing in her hand for a long moment. "And for good reasons, too."

"Why? Almost everyone wears them. Especially Anko-sensei."

"Anko-san is the reason why I don't wear them."

* * *

Three hours later, he looked more haggard than she'd ever seen him—and that was something, considering she'd gone on her fair share of missions with him.

"Sakura-san…I believe we've exhausted the entire store."

She sighed, clearly disappointed. "There's not a single piece of green clothing in here that looks good on me. C'mon. Let's go get something to eat. You like dango, don't you?"

The entire way to the teahouse, she continued to express her frustration. "Ino's had a new look a couple times over the past couple of years—actually, everyone has! Why am I the only person who looks the same? Maybe I should grow my hair out again?"

Itachi was quiet when he slipped into his seat across from her at their table. "Two orders of dango, please," he murmured to a waitress.

"Maybe I should try a different color? Black?"

"Black…would not suit you."

"There aren't many colors that would, considering my hair. I suppose I can check back at that store when new arrivals come in. Maybe there will be something that'll fit me?"

"Why do you want to change your look so much?" He seemed genuinely curious, and it surprised her.

"Well—everyone's changed a little. I want to too, I suppose."

"Sasuke hasn't changed," he mused. "And neither have I." He held his cup of tea between his palms, as if warming his hands. She wondered if he had cold hands.

"Well, _I_ want to change."

Itachi smiled softly, as if he was dealing with a child—and in his eyes, she might as well be. "I think you're fine the way you are," he told her sincerely. "You haven't changed in a long time for a reason. You've found your niche." She frowned. "Don't change."

"You, Uchiha Itachi," she accused, "can only persuade people because you are attractive and all people love you. Your arguments are never actually sound."

He merely smiled. She had no problem with that.

* * *

"Sasuke-kun, hold my bags?"

He grimaced. "No."

"Please?"

"Make Naruto do it."

"I would, but Hinata claimed him—I don't think he can be my slave for as long as he's with her. Please? I don't even have a lot."

"I don't stoop myself down to that level."

She frowned. "Itachi would've done it without question."

"That's because Itachi is _gay_."

There was a long moment of silence, and she narrowed her eyes. "You _lie_," she hissed. "He's not gay—he's just a _gentleman_."

He snorted. "Right."

"And I'll have you know, if all of the women in the village had to choose you or your brother, they'd all choose him in a heartbeat."

Sasuke looked baffled, and maybe a little frustrated. That pleased her. "If you like my brother so much," he finally said, "then just get him to shop with you from now on."

"Oh, but you don't realize how much fun it is to see you suffer," she sang, linking their arms together. She could literally see a part of her teammate die.

* * *

"Where have you _been_?" Ino demanded, clearly upset that Sakura had brushed off her plans for something else.

"Checking out that new perfume store," Sakura sighed. "I bumped into Itachi, so we took a little longer than excepted. Sorry." She smiled sheepishly. "But look! I got you something." She held up two small bags—one for Sakura, and the other for Ino.

The blonde stared at her for a long moment, before grudgingly accepting the gift. "I suppose you're forgiven this time."

"And look at the one I chose!" Excited, Sakura pulled out her own small bottle of perfume. "And this time, it's _not_ cherry blossom." Along with the bottle came a slip of paper, tied onto the lid carefully with—shinobi wire?

"What's that?" Ino caught the glint of the wire just as quick as Sakura had.

"I don't know." She frowned, and carefully untied the folded piece of paper. On it was elegant writing—it was familiar, but she couldn't quite place a finger on it.

_I will pick you up at eight. Dress formally. Knowing you, you will have a wide selection in your wardrobe._

"Who's it from?" Ino snatched the note from her to read the message.

"I have no idea."

"Oh, wow. I wish Shikamaru was this romantic."

Sakura frowned. It'd be more romantic if she _knew_ who was asking her out. What was she going to do? Do as she was told, and be ready for eight? What if it was someone she didn't like? Then what? Her brow furrowed. If only she could remember where she'd seen that writing before…

She was pulled from her reverie when Ino tugged at her arm. "C'mon, we've got to dress you up!"

"But—"

"No buts! Let's go!"

* * *

She wasn't incredibly surprised that it was Itachi standing at her door—maybe because she'd secretly been hoping that it'd be him.

He smiled. "You look lovely tonight." Ino had chosen one of her red dresses, and curled her hair and tied it up in a half ponytail. She blushed, staring at her feet.

"Thanks."

"Shall we go?" He held out his arm.

"Okay." She linked their arms together.

He looked great tonight, too. She didn't think she'd ever seen him in a suit—and she never expected to, either. She could get used to this.

"Wait, wait, Itachi—isn't this place, like, the most expensive restaurant in the village?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

She could _really_ get used to this.

* * *

Three dates later, and her overall mood had improved tenfold.

"And this guy still isn't your boyfriend?" Ino asked incredulously. "_Why_, child? Why?"

"We've just had a couple of dates," Sakura said breezily. "Itachi takes a lot of women on dates." But the thing was, she was hoping that she was different from all of those other women. But the chances that Itachi actually took interest in her was slim to none. After all—who was she? His little brother's friend, that was who.

"But he goes _shopping_ with you," her best friend enthused. "That can't _not_ mean something."

"In case you haven't noticed, Ino," she turned to face the blonde, smiling, "we're in the hospital."

"Yeah, so?"

"I'm a medic."

"I know."

"…Which means I'm _working_."

"_So?_ This is your love life we're talking about! _Way_ more important than your patients!"

She rolled her eyes. "Right." Someone cleared his throat, and she looked up. Speak of the devil. "Itachi! Good, you're here on time. Sasuke-kun's never on time." She turned to Ino. "Now, if you'll _excuse_ me."

Two days ago, Itachi had returned from an ANBU mission. He had a deadly poison in his bloodstream—but nothing she couldn't handle. He was administered the antidote that was made within hours, but she had him come in for a check-up, just in case some of the poison was still in his system. He followed her silently down the hallways, until they reached an empty room.

"Please sit on the bed." She pulled out a clipboard with a blank form. "Have you experienced anything unusual? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?"

"Only a little dizziness after training."

"And does this usually happen?"

"No."

"Alright. Please lie down." After jotting down a few notes on her clipboard, she placed it on the bedside table and waited for Itachi to lie down. He was wearing casual clothes today—a loose black shirt and comfortable shinobi pants.

And of course, like always, he was gorgeous.

She placed her hands right over his heart, palms flaring up with chakra, and got to work.

"How have you been lately?" he asked conversationally several minutes later. She wasn't having a hard time getting rid of the rest of the toxins—his immune system was already beginning to take care of it, and she was only helping it along.

She smiled playfully. "We saw each other two days ago."

"A lot can happen in two days," he said seriously. She just rolled her eyes.

"Trust me. _Nothing_ happens in my life."

"Nonsense."

It was only twenty minutes later that she finally had the job done. Sighing, she smiled contentedly and picked up her clipboard again. "Well, you should be fine now. But if anything happens, you know who to call."

He returned her smile. "I think you should just become my personal medic."

She laughed, trying hard not to blush. It didn't work. "I'm a lot of people's personal medic, actually. Naruto, Sasuke, Ino…and Kakashi does prefer me, but will put up with someone else if he has to. I only have two hands."

"Well, then." He sat up. "I suppose I'll try my best not to get injured." He got to his feet, and it was only then that she remembered that he was tall. _Very_ tall. And very sexy.

Wait. That last thought wasn't supposed to happen. Backspace. Delete.

"I'd like to see you try," she said wryly. He only smirked. Leaning down so his lips brushed the shell of her ear, he said softly:

"I'll see you tonight. Dinner at eight."

And before she could even manage a dazed, "Okay," he had already swept out of the room.

* * *

"Thanks! I had lots of fun tonight." She smiled, gripping her purse tightly.

In all honesty, the date itself hadn't been different from any of the other dates. Dinner, a walk through the village, and being escorted home. She always loved talking to Itachi during those walks—he had such different perspectives of everything. It was just so interesting.

But tonight—tonight was different.

She couldn't exactly put her finger on it, but something just wasn't _right_. Or, well, maybe it _was_ right, but…

He'd been saying cryptic things the entire time. Not the usual compliments on how nice she looked or how she will one day surpass Tsunade—but things like, "Have you ever considered getting married?" or, "You've never had a boyfriend before, have you?"

What a rude question. Did he think she didn't have the capability of attracting someone? Of course, she wasn't as pretty as some _other_ girls, but that didn't mean…

Well, he _did_ say she was attractive every chance he got. Shouldn't that mean something? Unless they were empty words?

"Sakura-san?" She snapped out of he reverie. "Are you alright?"

"Oh! Just—just fine." She smiled, and reached for her doorknob. "Goodnight, Itachi."

"Wait."

"Hm?" She kept her pleasant smile on her face, because she didn't want him to know she was a little upset—and he'd _always_ been able to read her rather easily—"Mmphg!"

Okay. She wasn't expecting that.

"Um." Great. She was probably red as a tomato by now. "What was that?"

"A kiss." How could he say that so easily?

"Well, I know _that_—but, like, why?"

He looked at her like she was some odd animal in the zoo. "Because I like you, of course."

"Um…?"

"Sakura-san," he said seriously, "I hold your shopping bags for you. I give you honest opinions on the clothes you try on. For you, I drop all of my dignity. Surely, you must know that it means more than just being friends."

Did she just unknowingly step into a relationship with Uchiha Itachi?

…Well. She could deal with that.

"Of course!" She nodded sagely. "Of course I knew…that…" The way he raised his eyebrows told her that he didn't believe her. Damn. She coughed. "Anyway. Can we…try that again? I was caught off guard, so it doesn't count."

"Why would you want to try again when you can just have another one?"

"…Good point."

* * *

"He is _such_ a good catch," Ino muttered under her breath. "Sakura, you are magical."

She grinned. "I know." Upon glancing over her shoulder though, she felt a little bad for her boyfriend.

"Itachi-san! Here's another one!" Ino hung her latest shopping bag on Itachi's ear, because all of his hands were full.

…Well. He was a highly capable ANBU member. He'd be fine.

Hopefully.

**

* * *

A/N:** Lacking some flow, and a little awkward at parts, but it was fun to write. :)

Now. To start studying Math. Again. D:


	35. rigorous

**errands**  
012. rigorous

(_non-massacre. again. :D_)

* * *

"Nii-san?" Itachi tensed. "Mother wants to know why you're taking so long—"

Itachi turned to his little brother, carefully placing the package he was holding back in its designated spot on the shelf. "Sasuke."

"Oh." His little brother frowned. "Did she ask you to get these, too?"

To be perfectly honest, this was the first time Itachi had ever been in the feminine hygiene aisle. In all of his years of grocery shopping for his family, his mother had _never_ asked him to pick up…_these_ things for her.

(And what was worse, was that when he expressed this problem to Sakura, who was _supposed_ to be his loving girlfriend, she just smiled and asked if he could pick some up for her, too.)

And he didn't mind. Really. Itachi was a man of dignity, and no feminine hygiene products were going to change that.

It was just…why were there so many different _kinds_?

"I'm in…a predicament," he told Sasuke, who was surveying the aisle. "Mother did not specify which ones she needed."

"Did she say she was all out?"

"Yes."

Sasuke promptly went a little further down the aisle and grabbed two packages of different colors, tossing them into Itachi's shopping basket. Under his brother's bemused stare, he explained, "The thicker ones for the night, and thinner ones for the day. Now let's go—we're all hungry for lunch."

"I, ah"—he cleared his throat—"still have to get some for…Sakura."

His little brother stared at him for a moment, before looking away and his ears growing red. "Ah. Okay. I'll…wait for you at the cashier—"

"I don't know which type she uses either."

Pause. "Haven't you two been going out for a little over a year now? She hasn't subjected you to this torture yet?"

Itachi frowned. "No. Women do this to their boyfriends?"

"Yes."

"…Ah."

Sasuke sighed, and plucked out the box right in front of them, and dropped it into the basket. "Tampons," he explained.

He frowned. "There are…different kinds?"

"She says that they're more practical for her, since she moves around a lot. If you _really_ want to know how they're different from pads, just…read the back."

He did. He had no words for such…oddities.

"And…how do you know all of this?"

Sasuke looked away indignantly. "You're always away on your ANBU missions, so Mother sometimes asks me to get hers. And Sakura is my teammate—Naruto and I have had our…fair share of time here."

Itachi needed to hear no more, and patted his little brother's shoulder in empathy.

**

* * *

A/N:** So it's been sixteen days since I last posted on here, which is actually a record for me, I think. I suppose it's just a reminder that I _do_ have a life away from my laptop. 8D Sorry, guys. It's the middle of exams (I think I failed my Math diploma), and…lots of boy stuff has been happening. I'm just kind of overwhelmed.

But I hope this makes up for it?


	36. sins

**bittersweet betrayals**  
020. sins

(_au~_)

* * *

The wife knows. The wife always knows. She can pretend that she doesn't know, but she does.

She's the one that does your laundry. She's the one that sleeps beside you at night. She can tell when you come home with another woman's perfume on you, when there's a long hair on your clothes that doesn't belong to her.

She knows.

It begins six months into their marriage. Six months is how long he can hold out for. He begins coming home later, with the stench of smoke and alcohol and sometimes sex clinging to his suit. She never says a word though, so neither does he.

It would be a lie if he said that he doesn't care for his wife. He does—just a little, he supposes. Just a little. Not enough.

"Have you ever thought about having children, Sasuke-kun?" she asks lightly one day, and he wonders if she even knows what words she's spewing out.

"Children are a pain," he says simply.

She smiles sadly. "Or do you just not want to have them with me?" His eyes flash towards her, narrowing imperceptibly. "I mean, you wouldn't want children with pink hair, right?"

He looks away, carefully avoiding the subject that she has carefully probed. "My dominant genes would give them dark hair."

"Ah." She nods once, returning to her meal.

—

On a Thursday evening, he decides that he will return straight home for once. He will help his wife make dinner. For once, he will come home and see her surprised and smiling face—not her fitful slumber because she fell asleep on the couch, waiting for him to come home.

When he opens the front door, though, it's him who's surprised.

His older brother is sitting on the couch (_the couch she's fallen asleep on so many times_), reading a magazine with his legs crossed. He looks up, and Sasuke can only detect the moment of panic flit across his features because they're brothers, and they know each other like the back of their hands.

"Sasuke," Itachi greets. "You're home early."

He nods curtly. "I had very little work today." He hears soft footsteps, and he knows, just by the sound of them, that they belong to his wife.

"Sa—Sasuke-kun?" Her damp hair is down, droplets of water trailing down her skin, wrapped in nothing but a small towel. "What are you doing here?"

It's a moment before he answers. "I live here." It's not hard to make the connection. He glances at his brother, and sees the way he glances at his wife before looking away. He can see the blush spreading on Sakura's cheeks. "How long has this been going on for?"

There is a pregnant pause, and all he can hear is the humming of the generator in the basement and the beating of his own heart. Then she says, very quietly, "Not as long as you, Sasuke-kun."

And he cannot argue with that.

**

* * *

A/N:** Since it's summer, do you guys want me to update this more often? If I write enough, I could post once every couple of days, or so…

(I remember me spamming those who had me on alerts last year by posting something once every couple days. I think they hated me for it. :P)


	37. apple

**once upon a time**  
095. apple

(_au again._)

* * *

An apple a day kept the doctor away. Sakura firmly believed in this. Every day, she would go to the cafeteria in the university to buy one before going to class.

She might have to skip that routine today, though. She had been studying late the night before, and as a result, slept in this morning. Running into the cafeteria just five minutes before class, out of breath, she checked if there were still any apples left. There was one. Sighing in relief, she got in line and waited until it got to the fruits section.

Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she tried to reach around the person in front of her to reach for the apple. She was going to be late…

"Hey!"

The person in front of her looked back at her, a delicate eyebrow raised, apple in hand. "Yes?"

She glared at him. "You have my apple."

He glanced at the fruit currently in his possession. "Your apple?"

"Yeah. _My_ apple."

"I don't see your name on it," he countered. She clenched her fists. Did he _really_ want to deal with her when she was all frazzled and cranky? Bad choice on his part.

"Whatever," she snapped, snatching the apple from him. "It's mine, and that's final." She slipped past him in line to head straight to the cashier; they were the only ones left in line, and class would be starting soon. She'd be scolded if she was late.

"That's very rude of you, Miss," he said, coming up behind her. "I believe I took that apple first."

"Oh, don't be so _immature_," she retorted.

"Aren't you the one who's being immature?" She gripped the fruit so hard that she felt it give way a little under her fingertips. Damn bastard, who did he think he was?

The bell rang, and she jumped. Then, glaring as hard as she could at the guy, all but slammed the apple down onto the counter. "_Fine_," she snarled. "Have your stupid _apple_." And she stormed off.

—

The next day, when she entered the cafeteria, she saw him waiting in line again. Scowling, she was careful not to look at him—but it seemed that he was looking for her, because he slipped out of line to meet her.

"What do you want?" she asked bitterly, ready to kick him in the shin if she needed to.

He rummaged in his bag, and pulled out an apple—red and shiny and looking absolutely delicious. "Here," he said. "Your apple."

She stared at it suspiciously for a moment, thinking of Snow White, before accepting it cautiously. "Thank you."

"My name is Itachi." He held out his hand.

She wasn't sure whether to smile or not, so she just pursed her lips. "Sakura."

And he continued to give her an apple every day after that, without fail. (Needless to say, it greatly helped her budget.)

—

"And that's how I met your father," she finished, smiling at her entranced children.

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "No. You approached him at a bar, wasted, and told him not to worry, because you'd totally do him if you were a guy."

"_Sasuke_!"

**

* * *

A/N:** Haha, so much for updating more frequently…I am slowly feeling my brain turn to goo as I write 30+ essays in preparation for my History V exam. (Oh Wagner, how I want to dig you from your grave and kill you ten times over so bad…)


	38. adrenaline

**nice to meet you, i'm your other half**  
067. adrenaline

(_since someone asked, i thought it'd be interesting to write out how itachi and sakura actually met from the last chapter._)

* * *

Ino was not-so-discreetly throwing glances over her shoulder every two seconds at the guy behind her. "That kind of beauty is not possible," she emphasized for the nth time in the last five minutes. "Not. Possible."

"I _know_," Sakura agreed whole-heartedly, taking another drink of her vodka. The more she drank, the more amazing he looked. "He's gay, right? He has to be gay."

"He's not gay," Sasuke gritted, while Naruto burst into guffaws at the counter.

"How do you know, Sasuke? Is it like you _know_ him, or something? If you did, why wouldn't you introduce us? That's a cruel, cruel thing to do, you know, to deprive a woman of such gorgeousness!"

"He's my _bro_—"

"Oh my God, Ino, he's coming towards us! Oh my God, oh my God—"

"Sakura. Breathe." Ino's hands came down onto her shoulders, holding her steady. "Breathe." Pause. "Is he right behind me?"

She felt lightheaded. "Basically, yeah."

"Oh. My. God."

She heard Sasuke sigh in frustration as he ordered another beer. Mr. Beautiful, behind Ino, ordered a Long Island. _Hell_ yes. Long Islands were officially the sexiest drink in the world.

"Is he still here?" Ino breathed. "I can't turn around. I can't. It's too overwhelming."

"How do you think _I_ feel?" Sakura hissed, shamelessly ogling him over her best friend's shoulder. "Okay. He got his drink. He's walking away, back to his friends. Okay. He sat down. We're good." Immediately, Ino turned around to stare again. Unattainable, even for her. That was a first.

"Hello," Naruto called, waving wildly. "Sasuke and I are here! We kind of exist, you know!"

"WE DON'T CARE, NARUTO."

Two hours and several drinks later, and Mr. Beautiful was absolutely mind-blowing.

"Go talk to him," Ino slurred, pushing at Sakura. "Go on."

"Why can't you?" she retaliated, stumbling. Sasuke caught her and held her steady. "Sasuke, why don't _you_ go talk to him? He's probably gay anyway, and you're looking pretty sexy tonight…" For reasons unbeknownst to her, he looked a little nauseous. "Or maybe we can get Naruto…opposites _do_ attract, after all…"

"Oh, stop being a wuss and just talk to him!" Ino shouted, giving her a push. "If he's gay, he'll like you even more!"

"What's that even supposed to _mean_, Pig?" Stumbling a few more steps, she bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry—" Except it was Mr. Beautiful. "Oh. Um."

Pause.

She smiled goofily. "Hi."

He raised an eyebrow. "Hello."

Oh, no. What was she supposed to say now? "It's okay," she told him, patting his arm sympathetically. "If I were a guy, I'd _totally_ do you. You'll find The One soon."

Mr. Beautiful looked at her, and then past her. "Sasuke, I think your friend has either mistaken me for a girl, or thinks I'm gay."

Accepting another vodka, Sakura poked his chest, hard. "Wait. So you're _not_ gay? Oh, this is _great_! We'll get along _fabulously_." She gave him her most dazzling smile.

He pat her shoulder. "Of course, Miss. Maybe when you're sober."

"Sakura. My name's _Sakura_."

"Of course." It was then that Sasuke came to steer her away—although she didn't know _why_, because they were hitting it off so well.

—

The next day, Ino told her what happened.

"…Oh my God, I did _what_?"

**

* * *

A/N:** So, my exam is tomorrow afternoon. Ahaha. The panic hasn't hit yet, surprisingly. I ran through a practice exam and predicted my essay marks, and got 58% overall. Two more percent and I'll pass! More practice exams, muahaha! (You can tell I've lost a bit of my sanity. Not that I had much to begin with.)


	39. insanity

**4am**  
028. insanity

(_au! btw, so sorry if i break your brain. D:_)

* * *

"Itachi-kuuun?"

"Sakura? Is that you?"

"Of course it is, babycakes! Who else would it be?"

"…Are you drunk?"

"Aw, you know me so well! How'd you tell?"

"Just a hunch. Is everything alright? Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Nuh-uh! No boys allowed on girls night! I just wanted to ask you if you were bi. 'CAUSE YOU KNOW, INO AND I WERE TALKING ABOUT IT, AND SINCE I'M THE ONLY GIRL YOU EVER TOOK INTEREST IN…YEAH. UNLESS YOU ONLY LIKE THE MANLY PARTS OF ME?"

"There's no need to yell, Sakura. I'm right here. And I assure you, you are very feminine."

"YOU DIDN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION, WEASEL. ARE YOU BI? OR WAIT, ARE YOU GAY, AND USING ME AS YOUR BEARD?"

"Beard?"

"Yeah! Like, so you don't look gay to everyone else!"

"It greatly bruises my ego to have my girlfriend question my sexuality."

"DO YOU IMAGINE I'M A MAN WHEN WE MAKE LOVE, ITACHI? DO YOU? DO YOU?"

"Sakura. Please stop shouting."

"TRYING TO AVOID THE QUESTION, HUH? DO YOU HAVE A MAN WITH YOU RIGHT NOW? IS THAT WHY YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK TO ME? YOU LYING, CHEATING SLUT!"

"I feel the need to hang up, and wait until you're sober."

"SO YOU CAN PRETEND NOTHING HAPPENED, RIGHT? BECAUSE I'LL FORGET BY TOMORROW."

"No, because I feel like my sanity is slowly slipping away. I am holding the phone at arm's length from my ear, and I can still hear you. Please speak with an inside voice."

"AFRAID YOUR BOYFRIEND WILL HEAR ME? HUH? HUH?"

"Sakura. I promise you that there is no one here. It's nearing four in the morning, and I would very much like to sleep. If you'd like, I will come and pick you up from Yamanaka-san's house tomorrow morning."

"…FINE. BUT IF I SEE EVIDENCE OF SOME GAY BUTTSEX GOING ON IN YOUR BED, I'M DUMPING YOU!"

"It's a deal."

"…Well, unless you make a tape of it! Then I won't dump you."

"…"

"Itachi? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just choked on something."

"You shouldn't eat at this time of day! It's a big no-no! YOU'LL BE FAT!"

"Of course. May I sleep now? I don't have the stamina to stay up until four in the morning like you."

"Only if you kiss me goodnight!"

"We're on the phone."

"So? Kiss me anyway!"

"I, ah, extend to you a loving embrace through the telephone line."

"…I don't feel the love! Is your boyfriend doing the naughty to you as we speak? IS THAT WHY YOU'RE SO QUIET?"

"I am a naturally silent person, Sakura. I thought you knew that. May I sleep now?"

"Okay, 'Tachi-chan! INO, WHAT KIND OF YAOI IS THIS? THERE WASN'T EVEN ANY ACTION!"

"…Goodnight, Sakura."

"Nighty-night!"

**

* * *

A/N:** Fast update because I'm going on vacation tomorrow. I'll be taking my laptop with me, but I don't know if there'll be free internet in the hotels. (That, and I hope I can run into some inspiration for my works-in-progress. Multi-chaptered things are way too hard to write. Srsly.)


	40. angel

**rainbow road**  
081. angel

* * *

As Itachi surveyed the scene, he wondered if he had died and been sent to some customized hell, made just for him.

"TAKE THAT, BITCH!"

Yeah. He was definitely in hell.

Pein sat calmly beside him on the couch, watching Sasori knit in the corner. "You aren't going to join?"

He bristled. "They are doing just fine without me."

When Itachi returned from his mission with Kisame, the last thing he had expected was his girlfriend paying him a visit. Actually, scratch that—that was the second last thing he expected. The _real_ last thing he expected was to be playing Mario Kart Wii with Deidara, Tobi and Hidan while she waited for him to return. Like civil human beings. Like they _weren't_ on the opposite sides of the war that was going on right now.

"It's nice though, isn't it?" Konan sighed. "Things are much easier when she gets along with the rest of them. I was worried about her and Deidara for a while, but they seem to be the best of friends."

Itachi cringed imperceptibly at the thought of Deidara and Sakura sharing two _BFF_ necklaces.

"What I can't quite wrap my mind around," Pein said, "is that Sakura has beaten Hidan in the last three races."

"THAT WAS A CHEAP SHOT. YOU DON'T THROW A FUCKING BANANA PEEL IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT BEFORE THE FINISH LINE." Hidan, the unofficially dubbed Mario Kart Master, was getting his ass kicked. By a _girl_.

This didn't make sense. The rest of Akatsuki wasn't supposed to _like_ Sakura. They were supposed to disapprove of her relationship with Itachi, and promptly kill her. They weren't supposed to be…_friends_. What was this, homicidal S-class criminals being friends with a Leaf-nin? Atrocious. Stupid. Absolutely…hellish.

"Itachi! Are you sure you don't want to play?" Sakura waved to him from in front of the plasma screen TV. "Tobi says he'll let you use his player, if you want!"

He felt a vein in his temple burst. Everyone knew that Tobi used Baby Peach as his character. Every. Time.

"I'm fine," he said, struggling to appear aloof. "You have fun."

She frowned. "If you say so. Hey, Hidan! Don't change my vehicle while my back is turned, bitch!"

**

* * *

A/N:** Because it's the last day of my vacation, and I've been writing a lot more than I do at home. :) I'm just chilling in the hotel today while my parents do some last minute shopping.


	41. never

**true art**  
004. never

* * *

"If you don't come with us willingly, then we'll take you by force," Itachi said calmly. "There is no way out of this."

Still crouched in her defensive stance, Sakura took a few steps back, eyes narrowed. "I'll _never_ come willingly." At her bold statement, the Uchiha rose an eyebrow, looking vaguely amused.

"We have several methods of persuading you—none of which are pleasant, I assure you."

"I'd rather shrivel up and die in some unknown hole before I betray my village."

He sighed. "Very well. Kisame, do it."

Sakura's eyes flickered over to the large shark-nin beside the Uchiha, tensed and ready to spring back. But he just merely pulled a large object out of his even larger cloak, setting it on the ground. It was a stereo.

"Are you sure you won't come with us willingly?" Itachi asked once more.

"Never," she hissed.

And so Kisame pressed the _play_ button.

_BABY, BABY, BABY, OH—_

Oh, no. The horror.

_LIKE, BABY, BABY, BABY, NOOO—_

Sakura fell to the ground, shaking, as if pulled into the Tsukiyomi itself. "Stop it," she moaned. "Anything but that."

"Will you follow us back to Akatsuki?"

Her head snapped up to glare at the two S-class criminals, hating them to the very pits of hell to subject her to such torture. "_Never._"

_I THOUGHT YOU'D ALWAYS BE MINE, MINE—_

_WHEN I WAS THIRTEEN, I HAD MY FIRST LOVE—_

Sakura would've put up more resistance, if she didn't faint on the spot from her brain overload.

—

Deidara stared incredulously as Kisame and Itachi returned, a small, pink-haired Leaf-nin slung over Kisame's shoulder. "That was fast, yeah."

Itachi went straight to the fridge for his chocolate milk. "We didn't waste time on the…lesser persuasion methods."

"What'd you guys _do_ to her?" The blonde artist stared at the medic. She was out like a light.

Kisame grinned maniacally. "Justin Bieber."

"Oh." He nodded sagely. "That makes sense, yeah. Sometimes, even I faint when I listen to him. He's too amazing."

Unnoticed by him, everyone in the room shuddered.

**

* * *

A/N:** I'm sorry, I feel like I'm neglecting you all. I'm not posting nearly as much as I used to, whether it's updating this, _fading away_, or just posting oneshots. It's just life, senior year, drama, boys, the whole shebang. And homework. And Calculus. Oh my God, Calculus. D8


	42. mask

**admirable**  
040. mask

* * *

"You are looking handsome tonight, sir," she purred, concealing her scowl and shudder.

Itachi looked down at her, not even the slightest flicker of emotion flashing across his features. "I am not interested."

"Why, this is a brothel, sir." She gestured around them; the dark lobby and the scent of smoke thick in the air. "Unless you have different tastes?" She doubted that he had "different tastes", but she must play her part well. Her act had to be flawless when dealing with Uchiha Itachi. Sasuke would never come home otherwise.

"I—ah, I am fine," Itachi said, sounding oddly civil, if not a little uncomfortable. "I have arranged a meeting with someone here."

"A woman?" She did her best to keep her voice sultry. "I could offer you my services, if you had some time on your hands." When she scanned his body with his eyes, she made sure to make a big show of it, although there was nothing much to see, with his cloak on. "…Free of charge."

When his eyes bore into hers, she fought the urge to shrink away. They were standing very close—close enough to feel his breath on her skin, close enough to sense his chakra simmering just underneath his skin, waiting to be used. Tsukiyomi. Susanoo. Amaterasu. All of that could be just a moment away, if she made a single slip. She had to do this. She had to.

Kakashi, Naruto and Sai were not detectable from their chakra, but she knew they were around, somewhere. Her henge was holding well. She could do this. She was the only one who could.

Itachi was very still, almost completely pressed up against her, with the way she was practically draping herself over him like some cheap whore. She forced to keep her lashes lowered, her touch like liquid as her fingers trailed down his cheek.

"An admirable effort," he told her noncommittally, voice nothing over a whisper. "But not enough, _Sakura_."

—

It was warm. The sun was shining, the grass was green, and the gurgling of the creek was a pleasant sound to her ears.

"Man," Naruto said loudly, breaking the peace as he returned from his hunting further down the river with Sai. "Are you sure you're okay, Sakura-chan? He didn't put some weird jutsu on you?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine." It was odd. There were no disruptions in her chakra, her vitals were stable, and she felt normal. "It's…really weird, actually."

"Why did he just let you go, though?"

She stared off into the distance, watching a mother bird feed her hatchlings. "I don't know."

The moment Itachi uttered her name, she had sprung back, already at the ready. She didn't know how he knew it was her—they had only met once before, and even then, they hadn't even spoken. Her henge had hidden her bright green eyes, her distinguishable pink hair. She even changed the shape of her face and her body figure to be safe, made to appear more mature, curvier, more beautiful.

But he still knew her. He still knew who he was.

And he had let her go. He had only stared at her as she backed away—because even with her teammates, they were nothing against him if they didn't have the element of surprise.

Before she disappeared with a teleportation jutsu, she thought she saw his lips shape into some words—but she couldn't be sure.

_Save him, because I can't anymore._

**

* * *

A/N:** I don't like this one at all, so I didn't even read it over for typos.

For anyone who's been following me long enough (I don't know if there are any who have, as I'm only a mediocre writer—this chapter is proof of that, hahaha), it was my birthday recently. Same day as Naruto's. :) So I've been a little busy with that. My birthday is always around Thanksgiving weekend in Canada, so there's been lots of family time and hanging out.

(I'm having my actual party sometime in the spring, after I've moved. I'm having a Disney movie marathon. It will be epic.)


	43. heaven

**boom, boom, boom**  
071. heaven

(_au. because canon fails._)

* * *

Itachi had never been a firm believer in heaven. God may or may not exist, but he did not depend on Him. Itachi believed in his own skill, and that was all.

But sometimes, it didn't quite feel that way. Sometimes, he felt like there was something out there much bigger than him, and he didn't know why.

Sakura tugged at his hand, pointing at the colossal Ferris wheel close to midnight, saying how it'd be great if they could catch it just as the fireworks started, because they'd have an amazing view. Not wanting to deny her of anything, they stood at the end of the line, watching the Ferris wheel spin slowly, but continuously.

"Itachi-kun," Sakura hummed, swaying on her feet. "Do you think forever exists?"

He glanced at her, not surprised. It was typical of her to ask something like that. "That's a very vague question, Sakura."

"Well," she replied lightly, "that's because there are several interpretations, beliefs, and answers to it. What's yours?"

He kept a careful eye on her as she climbed into their passenger car, following close behind. "That would depend. What does forever refer to?"

She shrugged. "Life. The world. Us."

"Again"—the Ferris wheel moved, and their passenger car swayed a little—"that would depend on what you think life is. What the world is." He looked at her. "What we are."

Sakura shook her head, laughing. "You've been taking _way_ too much TOK! I didn't mean it _that_ metaphorically!" Her hand reached his, and he let his fingers curl around hers. She sighed, leaning against him. "I know we're young and naïve and all, but I'd like to think that we have a forever."

"Hn." The breeze against his skin was cool as the travelled higher and higher up into the sky.

When their passenger car stopped at the top of the Ferris wheel, the fireworks went off. He could practically feel the grin radiating off of Sakura beside him, and he couldn't help but smile a little as well. They were typical fireworks—not even artistically executed—but it made her happy, and that was enough.

And as they went up and down on that Ferris wheel, watching the fireworks go—Itachi felt like he was a little closer to heaven.

**

* * *

A/N:** TOK = Theory of Knowledge, a course that all full IB students have to take. It's a mindfuck of a class, and I don't even have to take it to know it.

Since I think you guys are a smaller, closer audience than my general readers, I'll tell you something. Meet Sam. One of my closest friends, one that never judges me, and always tries to make me happy when he can. Incredibly irresponsible, careless, insensitive, stubborn, sexist, and racist. Compassionate, kind, and everything I want. My ex-boyfriend as of nearly two months ago.

This drabble was inspired by him—we watched fireworks together on a Ferris wheel back in the summer. We didn't have a deep talk, though—it'd be great if he had even a fraction of the intelligence Itachi has.

If I only had one wish, it would be to be happy. If I couldn't have that, I'd wish that I didn't need him to be happy. Too bad that's (still) not the case.


	44. ordinary

**hairdo**  
059. ordinary

(_non-massacre, yay~_)

* * *

Itachi raised an eyebrow when his girlfriend poked his chest, a fire in her eyes.

"You," she began, looking pained and frustrated, "have beautiful hair."

Pause. "Thank you."

"You have…you have beautiful, beautiful hair that is long. And it's soft and feels so good to run my hands through—and it's so amazing, and—"

"Sakura," Itachi said firmly, taking her hand in his so she wouldn't violently jab a hole through him with her finger—because God knew she could. "What's the matter?"

"And—and _my_ hair"—she clutched his fingers so hard, he was afraid she'd break them—"_my_ hair is short, rough, has more bad days than good—I have split ends, Itachi! _Split ends!_ Do you know how long I spend inspecting your hair when you're sleeping to check if you have split ends? None! You have _none_!"

"That's…slightly creepy, Sakura."

"The _point_ is," she said, pulling her hand away from him and jabbing him again, "you're going to get a haircut. Immediately. I cannot stand the fact that my boyfriend's hair is longer than mine." As he processed the words, Itachi took an instinctive step back from his girlfriend. "Why are you backing away? Don't you feel _emasculated_ with that hair?"

"I like my hair just fine, thank you," he said carefully, evaluating her mental health. "I will get it trimmed when I see fit."

"Not trimmed," she corrected. "Cut."

"…Cut."

"Good." She smiled—a charming smile—the smile that told him things were going to go her way, whether he liked it or not. "I'll book an appointment for tomorrow."

—

"So by an appointment…you meant in your kitchen. And that you were the one cutting my hair."

"What, you don't trust me?" Sakura said haughtily, tying on her pink, flowery apron with a pair of menacing scissors sitting on the kitchen table.

"You're a kunoichi, Sakura. Not a hairstylist."

"I could be a hairstylist of I wanted to."

Itachi thought it would be less detrimental to his life if he just didn't respond to that. And really, it wasn't like he could resist her…evil ways without getting himself seriously injured. He'll just ask his mother to fix it up a little once he got home.

Half an hour later, though, he realized that not even his mother could fix this.

He cleared his throat. "I cannot believe I let you cut my hair."

"It looks…good!"

He looked at her reflection pointedly in the bathroom mirror, wondering if it would be best just to go bald. His hair would grow back healthier anyway. "I look like Rock Lee."

Sakura cleared her throat. "Yeah. Well. Lee's pretty endearing in his own way."

Itachi didn't even know what to say anymore.

**

* * *

A/N:** I have neglected this fic for _far_ too long. I have about five more chapters written in advance, as a precaution…but I want to write more before I post more. And to think, I'm not even halfway done these prompts…thinking up new plotlines for this pairing is almost as difficult as learning a language. D:

That being said, I hope you guys had a happy holiday and a New Year! School's starting again for me tomorrow. PROCRASTINATE NOW, PANIC LATER.


	45. pregnancy

**prompt:** pregnancy

**summary:** non-massacre. sakura is pregnant. itachi has things under control…probably.

* * *

"Nii-san, what are you doing?" Sasuke approaches Itachi in the kitchen, who seems to be making some sort of stir fry. He wrinkles his nose, refraining from saying anything about it looking bland and unappetizing. His brother has never been a bad cook, but the fact that this looks unappealing must mean that…

"Sakura said that she's hungry," Itachi replies noncommittally, not looking at Sasuke.

"It's one in the morning."

"…Yes, well, women. Pregnant women."

Sasuke nods solemnly.

Sakura is due soon, from what Sasuke remembers. Ever since she announced her pregnancy, his mother insisted that she live with them in the compound so they can keep a closer eye on her—and of course, get used to the environment because that's how it's going to be once she and Itachi get married, which will probably be a few months after the baby is born. (The thought still makes Sasuke nauseous, as does anything that has to do with his brother being intimate.)

"Do you mind?" Itachi nods to the kettle of boiling water, and the empty cup that is waiting to be filled with tea. Wordlessly, Sasuke goes over and prepares the tea for Sakura.

Their entire family's diet has changed since Sakura moved in. Sasuke didn't even know that so much care had to be given to pregnant women—it seems like anything could harm the baby while it's still in the womb. Whenever Itachi was busy on missions, Sasuke's had to accompany Sakura everywhere to do menial jobs, like carrying her things, shopping for healthy foods, keeping her away from coffee or alcohol—one time, he neglected the job for just one evening, and the next day, when Itachi found out that Sakura had one glass of champagne, Sasuke walked with a limp for a week.

Itachi the shinobi is scary, but Itachi the almost-father is even scarier.

"Make sure she drinks slowly," he warns Sasuke as he takes the tea to bring to Sakura.

"She knows how to drink her own tea," he mutters under his breath, ducking his head when a knife is tossed his way, piercing the wall.

—

"I'm going to kill your fiancé," Sasuke tells Sakura the next morning over breakfast.

"My fiancé is your brother," she reminds him, drinking her orange juice and frowning. He knows she would much rather have coffee.

"I'm still going to kill him."

Sakura pushes her eggs around her plate. She's sick of the same food day after day, but Itachi is relentless when it comes to her health. "You would think that he'd trust me to know what I have to do to take care of myself, since I'm the medic," she mutters, "but it's like he has me on a leash."

"When you first told him you were pregnant, he went out and bought a whole stack of books on pregnancy."

"_He_ might as well be the pregnant one!"

"Don't get agitated," Sasuke warns her, feeling nervous. "It'll cause stress on the baby."

"_You_ might as well be the pregnant one too! Why are you two more concerned about me being pregnant than I am? _I'm_ the one who's growing the tiny human inside of me; leave me alone so I can do it in peace!"

It's not like Sasuke _wants_ to be concerned about Sakura. It's just that if he's not, Itachi's going to find a hundred different ways to make him target practice.

"Just calm down. Please."

"Get me some coffee and I'll calm down," Sakura grumbles, as she usually does about once a week.

"I can't."

"I want some damn caffeine."

"I can't, Sakura."

Clearly irritated (as she always is when she's denied caffeine), she pushes her chair back and waddles around the kitchen in search for some coffee, even though she knows there's none. Sasuke sighs. He cannot wait until the baby is born.

Itachi wanders into the kitchen not long after, having slept in later than usual because of the meal he prepared for Sakura last night. Sasuke sighs in relief, because that means his job as Sakura's babysitter is over for the time being.

"Good morning," Itachi says to Sakura (completely ignoring Sasuke in the process), leaning down and kissing the top of her head. Sakura is facing the cupboard where the coffee used to be, her hands gripping the countertop. "Sakura?" She doesn't answer him, and Sasuke frowns, looking at her—

"Nii-san," he says, feeling faint. Itachi ignores him. "_Nii-san._"

"There's still supposed to be a week." Sakura's voice is high-pitched, almost shrill.

"What are you talking about?" Itachi pats down her hair.

"Nii-san!" Sasuke shouts, and Itachi turns around to glare at him.

"What."

"Her water broke."

Itachi looks down, and sees the puddle on the floor that he had clearly missed when he entered the kitchen.

"…It's a week early," he echoes Sakura. Sasuke rolls his eyes.

"You get her in a chair, I'll call Mother." But as he turns to leave the kitchen, both Itachi and Sakura are frozen at the counter. "Did you hear me? Nii-san."

Despite all of the preparations that Itachi had gone through and rehearsed in the past several weeks, he's clearly hopeless when it comes to the actual thing. Sasuke sighs huffily in irritation as he shoves his brother aside, helping Sakura into a chair just in time for the first contraction. She groans in pain, bending over and clutching her large belly.

"I'll only be a minute," Sasuke says to Itachi. "Can you handle her?" Itachi looks paler than he usually is, and his movements are strained as he wets a towel with warm water for Sakura's forehead.

For God's sake. Itachi is useless.

Needless to say, getting Mikoto, helping Sakura to the hospital, dressing her in a hospital gown, holding her hand and telling her to push—all of that is done by Sasuke.

(Not that anyone is ever going to thank him, or even know the pain he's gone through for this baby to be born.)

—

Life is much more peaceful in the following weeks, because Itachi is protective to the point where he won't even let Sasuke touch their child. A girl with red hair (co-dominance in hair alleles or something, Sakura had said in passing) called Megumi, named after Sakura's grandmother.

Well, not that Sasuke minds. With the stress he's been put through for the entire nine months of Sakura's pregnancy, he wouldn't care if he's not allowed to even look at Megumi for the next five years.

(It still disgruntles him that he's now an uncle. Of one of his best friend's child. It's disgusting to think about.)

"Sasuke?" Sakura pokes her head into his room, Megumi in her arms. "Are you busy right now?"

"Not really," he says, looking up from his book. "Why?"

"Could you watch her for a while?" She strides into his room, her full mobility restored now that she's not a walking globe, and shoves Megumi into his arms. "I'm having lunch with Ino."

"But—" Sasuke sputters. "Nii-san will kill me."

"He's also on a mission and won't know."

"I don't know how to take care of babies."

"Yeah, right. I know Itachi made you read all of those books he bought too. Her nap time is soon, so I don't think it'll be too difficult. Okay?"

Sasuke stares down at the tiny human in his arms, warm and soft and delicate. Her eyes are as black as night—she'll have the Sharingan for sure. Despite himself, pride swells in his stomach, and a minuscule smile graces his lips.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Sakura says in appreciation. "Thanks a bunch for this, Sasuke!" She pecks him on the cheek and skips out the room before he can tell her no.

He looks down at Megumi who's staring at at him with large, beady eyes. Only a brief moment passes before she opens her mouth and starts wailing.

Sasuke quietly accepts the fact that his torture is never going to end.

* * *

**A/N:** Inspired by my psychology textbook!

It's been a year since I last updated this fic (which I'm terribly sorry for), so I'm going to implement a change. This is the second time that I've lost my prompts since I started this drabble collection, so from now on, no more prompts! Just drabbles. Meaning that the numbers of the prompts up until now are completely meaningless.

Hopefully, I can get this story back up and running again. I've missed ItaSaku! :D


	46. unnoticeably

**prompt:** unnoticeably

**summary:** au. itachi has never thought much about it, but perhaps falling in love wouldn't be so bad if it was with the right person.

* * *

Silence.

"I don't—"

"Yeah. Me neither."

"I am glad we're on the same page."

Itachi sits awkwardly in a café with Haruno Sakura, a friend of his little brother's. He still doesn't know why this is happening.

"I have to admit," Sakura cautions, "I knew I was going to meet you sooner or later, but I didn't really expect it to be under these circumstances."

"Trust me, I did not expect it either."

Being twenty-six, Itachi's parents have expressed endless concern that he's never had a single girlfriend in his entire life. And Sasuke, being the devilish little brother he is, decided to "set him up" with a "nice girl" who is also lacking a love life.

Itachi has no doubt that Sakura is a nice girl. However, this wasn't…after all, he should be concentrating on his studies…and additionally, he has never even met Sakura before today—

"I don't want to be rude, Itachi-san, but I'm not interested. I mean, I'm sure you're interesting and charming, but—" With each word, Sakura becomes more flustered, and digging herself a deeper grave. "I am just—not looking for someone right now. If you understand."

"I do," he says, inclining his head.

She breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing in her seat. "Thank you. I'm sorry this is terribly awkward. I also have a study session in half an hour, so I actually have to leave now—is that alright?"

Slightly perturbed, he nods. "Of course. What are you studying?"

"Um, lots of stuff. I'm pre-med. But yeah, the coffee will be on me today, alright?"

"That's quite alright—"

"No, no, it's okay! I'm the one leaving early." She places a few bills on the table and stuffs her wallet back into her bag. "But it was nice meeting you, Itachi-san. Maybe I'll see you around!" And grabbing her coffee, she whisks out the door without giving him a single moment to bid her goodbye or thank her.

And he is slightly bruised, because she didn't let him pay either.

—

"You _let her pay_?" Sasuke stares at him. "Are you really that clueless with girls?"

"She didn't give me a chance," Itachi says, indignant. "You must know how she is."

"I do, but—" His little brother sighs. "Give me your phone. I'm going to input her number and you're going to call her back and pay like a proper person."

"That's not necessary, as neither of us are interested—"

"I don't care, man. Unless you start dating, I won't be allowed to date either, and that sucks more than hooking you up with someone." Sasuke swipes Itachi's phone from his pocket. "What's your passcode? 0723?"

Itachi blinks. "How did you know?"

"It's my birthday, you idiot."

"I don't appreciate you insulting my intelligence," he says, miffed.

"I wouldn't if you'd stop leaving so many openings." A few taps on Itachi's phone, and he tosses it back. "Call her in a few days. Okay?"

"No."

Sasuke narrows his eyes, and Itachi suddenly finds his little brother to be very frightening, and very dangerous. "Remember the time you accidentally knocked over Mom's favorite china set and Dad was furious? Who was the one who covered for you?"

Itachi pales slightly. "Blackmail is hardly a way to achieve what you want to achieve."

Sasuke shrugs. "Hey, I want a girlfriend. I can't get one until you do. So get to it."

His little brother has suddenly become a threat to Itachi's peaceful life. This is very disconcerting.

—

Once again, silence.

Sakura coughs. "So, here we are."

Itachi nods. "Here we are."

The muted background music of the café plays on.

"I thought I made this very clear, Itachi-san—"

"I know," he says, lips pursed. "I am well aware. However, my little brother…" He pauses, and Sakura waits with raised eyebrows. "He has decided to blackmail me."

But instead of understanding dawning in her eyes, a smile quirks at her lips. "I didn't think you'd have any blackmail material," she teases. Itachi resists the urge to frown.

"That would be the ideal situation, yes. Do you have another study session today?"

She waves her hand. "It's Friday. No one wants to study on a Friday."

"Then if you would do me a favor…" He leans in a little, and Sakura does so as well, nearly knocking over her coffee. "If, perhaps, you could put up a façade with me? I would like Sasuke to get off my back, so if we could just pretend for a little while that we're dating, you would be doing me a huge favor."

Judging from what he hears about Sakura, Itachi thinks she is a genuinely kind and warmhearted person. Which is why he's slightly taken aback when she asks, "What's in it for me?"

For a moment, he's so stunned he doesn't know what to say. "The feeling that you've done something good?" he offers.

She laughs. Itachi isn't quite sure how to respond to that. "That's for _after_ I become a doctor. Med school is a bitch to get into—I can't waste my time doing favors for other people. So, what's in it for me?"

Briefly, he weighs the pros and cons. Pros: Sasuke would finally leave him alone and his father will never have to know about that broken china set. Cons: None. Not yet categorized: potentially more time spent with Sakura, depending on what's "in it for her".

He sighs. "I'm taking fourth year statistics courses and I passed organic chemistry at the top of my class of five hundred."

Sakura's eyes shine like she's just hit a goldmine.

"Deal," she says with no hesitation. "Glad to make your acquaintance, Itachi-san." She holds out her hand, and perturbed, Itachi shakes it. He feels as though he's just successfully sealed a business transaction, not gained a fake girlfriend.

A moment later, she pulls a huge textbook out of her bag, and all hope of a conversation is promptly flies out the window.

—

"She is…" Sasuke blinks.

"Coming over, yes."

"But—?"

"Is this not natural when you are dating someone?"

"You're—already?"

Itachi raises his eyebrows. "Instead of looking baffled, I believe you should be rejoicing."

His little brother spins on his heels and walks away (with a slight bounce to his step, if Itachi isn't imagining things). "Oh, trust me. I'm rejoicing alright."

—

After being cooped up in Itachi's room for two hours, doing nothing but homework, Sakura finally lifts her head to ask, "I've been wondering for a while now, but why do you have a book on hairstyling?"

He glances back at his bookshelf where the cursed volume sits. "Sasuke got it for my birthday when he was six. I suppose he was under the impression that I spent a lot of time on my hair."

Sakura nods, slowly. "I see." Then, she smiles. "That's kind of cute."

"At least one of us thinks so."

"No, I mean—it's cute that you still have it, since it's been so long already." She returns to her work and tucks her hair behind her ear, and for a moment, Itachi is lost in the way it curls right at the curve of her neck.

He looks away, although the image doesn't quite leave his mind. His lips quirk into a faint frown, and not one of his own accord.

This is slightly disconcerting.

Silence again, until half an hour, Sakura spins her notebook so he can read it properly. "Can you check over my calculations for me?" It's nearing the end of the semester and her lab reports are piling up, to the point where she's almost falling over from sleep deprivation. Itachi knows the feeling well, although he's long since learned to use his insomnia to his advantage.

He skims over her rough draft and frowns. There are more mistakes than usual. "I think," he says, "you should take a day off before you continue with your schoolwork."

Sakura shakes her head, slightly frantic. "Are you kidding me? I'm already behind enough as it is!"

"This kind of work is not acceptable to be handed in anyways."

"Then tell me what needs to be fixed, and I'll fix it!"

"You've been coming here every day after class for two weeks now. This is no way to do things."

Glaring at him, she snatches the papers from him. "Fine. I'll check it myself. Some fake boyfriend you are."

Itachi waits, patiently, for her to begin nodding off as she often does once in a while—and once she does, he moves to shift her work away from her and grabs a pillow from his bed and slips it underneath her head. And then he pads out of the room to get a spare blanket from the storage closet.

Sasuke eyes him when he exits the kitchen, a water bottle in hand. "What are you doing?"

"Sakura has fallen asleep."

His little brother snorts. "A little early in the day to be doing _that_, don't you think?"

Itachi frowns. "What are you talking about?" It's never too early to be doing homework, especially for a pre-med student.

Sasuke shakes his head. "Whatever." As he strides away down the hallway, it occurs to Itachi.

"If you were assuming _intercourse_—"

"I don't want to hear about it, okay?"

"We weren't—"

The door slams behind Sasuke, leaving a very perplexed Itachi alone in the hallway with the blanket gathered in his arms. He isn't sure how merely mentioning that Sakura's asleep implies in any way that they've been doing anything inappropriate. Sometimes, he finds his little brother slightly barbaric.

He returns to his room, Sakura still asleep on the small table, her head snuggled up against his pillow. He drapes the blanket over her shoulders, and—and briefly, wonders if he should brush her bangs out of her eyes. What that would even feel like.

So he does it, and she stirs slightly, but not enough to wake—and Itachi blinks, and draws away.

He will make dinner. Yes. And rid himself of Sakura for a bit.

—

"A bit" meaning half an hour at most, because Sakura bursts into the kitchen not long later, her hair disheveled.

He raises an eyebrow at her disoriented state. "Good morning," he says dryly.

"I can't believe you just let me sleep," she grumbles, grabbing a cup from the cupboard and making herself some tea as if she knows the place like the back of her hand. (Which, to be fair, she does.)

"Like I said, you needed rest. Dinner is almost ready, so wait until you finish eating before you get back to work."

"You can cook?"

He glances at her, mildly offended. "I am an independent man at twenty-six years of age, so I would certainly hope I can cook." Sakura peeps over his shoulder, and he catches a faint whiff of her shampoo. "Sakura…"

"Yes?"

He keeps his voice low, in case Sasuke is nearby. "How long do we plan to keep up this façade for?"

"Hm? I don't really care. Why?"

They've been "dating" for approximately two weeks, but they haven't put up much of a show, unless Sakura coming over for daily study sessions counts as putting up a show. Sasuke is under the impression that Itachi is a prude anyways, and Sakura never brought it up, so it never happened—but suddenly (and frighteningly), Itachi…Itachi _wants_ to. And he knows why.

Which he doesn't see as too much of a problem, since in the past two weeks, they've become amicable and agreeable, and clearly comfortable enough for Sakura to prop her chin on his shoulder as she watches him cook. She probably doesn't think much of it.

This happened slowly and unnoticeably for Itachi—and it's new, because nothing ever escapes his notice.

He doesn't answer her question, but he turns his head to glance at her. She meets his gaze, her eyes the greenest green, and he tries to remember to breathe.

An impish smile grows on her lips, although she looks a little nervous. "What?" They're very, very close.

Should he? No. But…

"We could stop this make-believe at any time," he says airily, turning back to the stove.

"Sure, if that's what you want. But does that mean you won't help me with my studies anymore?" She doesn't move from his shoulder.

"I will always help with your studies if that's what you want, Sakura. I am not unkind."

"Oh." She finally steps away from him, bouncing on the heels of her feet. For the first time since Itachi has met her, she appears unsure. "Okay. Well, that was nice, I guess—being able to say I had a boyfriend, even though it was a fake one."

Itachi turns off the stove and turns to fully face her. "Sakura." He tries to assess her.

"Yes?" And she sounds a tiny bit hopeful, and that is enough for him.

He leans down and kisses her, only briefly, and he feels her breath catch in her throat. (It's an understatement to say it doesn't happen to him too.)

"Give me a minute and dinner with be ready," he murmurs before pulling away.

"Okay." She sounds breathless.

So he finishes up making dinner and they eat in his room, and Sakura moans about her large pile of work, and Itachi wonders if this would have happened even without the catalyst. If he would have met Sakura eventually and developed feelings for her anyway. Very likely, he supposes.

"So," she says a little later when it's dark out and she should be leaving soon, "are we…actually dating now?"

Itachi stares at her. "I didn't realize kissing meant so little to you."

Sakura blushes furiously, and before he's able to stop the thought from running through his head—_cute. She's cute._

Damn it all.

"I just wanted to confirm," she hisses. "I haven't had a boyfriend since high school, so I kind of forget how it works."

"I've never had a girlfriend," he says flatly.

"Good," she replies, smiling cheekily. "Then you're essentially clueless and I can still concentrate on my schoolwork."

He frowns. "I'm not entirely sure if that was a compliment or not."

"Me neither, actually." But as she returns to her work, her free hand sits on the table, unmoving. Is he supposed to do something with it?

Dating is a complicated business indeed. Itachi finds the page in his book where he left off and reads again—but not before he reaches out to hold her hand, the touch gentle in a way he's never experienced before.

"I didn't think it would happen like this," Sakura says, quietly. "I didn't think this would happen at all, actually."

"Trust me, you are not the only one."

"Sasuke never really talked much about you, and when he did, there was never much praise. So when he told me to meet you, I was a little unsure…but you know what? I'm really glad I did, because you're a treasure box."

"A treasure box?"

"Yeah. Like the hairstyling book Sasuke got you. Or the picture of your family you keep in your wallet. Or the way you organize your books according to the Dewey Decimal System. Just little pieces of you, here and there, and it's been really fun getting to know you."

"…I see." But Itachi thinks he knows what she means. The curl of her hair against the curve of her neck, her habit of poking fun at anyone who asks her a favor when she plans to help from the start, the way she lives off coffee but can't stand it if there's sugar in it. Tiny fragments that he can only catch with time.

Sakura laughs, and pulls her hand away from his. Itachi resists the urge to frown. "Okay, well, I'll let you ponder that. Now leave me alone, because I have work to do."

—

When Itachi hears the front door slam one afternoon, he pokes his head out of his room.

"What's wrong?" he asks Sasuke, who stalks down the hallway.

"Nothing."

"Girl problems?" His little brother casts him a glare, and Itachi knows he's got it just right. "You can always talk to me about it."

Sasuke snorts. "Just because you've been dating Sakura for a few months, doesn't mean you know all there is to know about girls."

"Well, I certainly know more than you, don't I?"

Sasuke scowls (because again, Itachi is right). "Go to hell. Go make out with Sakura, or something. Leave me alone."

When Sasuke has angrily taken refuge in his own room, Itachi sighs. Little brothers will always be little brothers.

* * *

**A/N:** This is me puking something out to ask you guys to give me prompts! Please! If you've ever wanted an ItaSaku scenario, please tell me and I will write it for you!

If ItaSaku happened in real life, it would be like this: accidentally and very normal but still painfully cute. Sorry this is boring hahahah.

(I have a new LJ~ It's on my page!)


	47. galaxy

**prompt:** galaxy

**summary:** what do those look like to you, fish or stars? they can be anything you want them to be. we can be anything we want to be.

* * *

"Do you like aquariums, Itachi?" Sakura hums as she spins in the large glass tunnel, eyes facing skyward at the sharks and rays that swim above them.

Itachi follows her gaze and sees just that: sharks and rays. "I don't dislike them," he says. She leans against the railing and just _stares_—at those fish that more or less look the same, share the same biological structure, do the same thing every moment of every day—to be honest, Itachi finds aquariums a touch boring and terribly redundant. Fish are fish. You can learn about them in textbooks. "But they're better than zoos," he amends, as an afterthought. "Because they don't smell."

Sakura laughs, never once taking her eyes off of the endless blue around them. "I like aquariums," she remarks.

"I know. You told me."

"They're just—I don't know, calming. I feel like I can breathe here." Which is ironic, considering they're underneath hundreds and thousands of tons of water that they can't even drink. "I love the way the fish swim, in circles as if they're never bored." Because they have terribly short memory spans. "You can watch them forever but nothing will ever be exactly the same as this very moment right now. It's like…an endless galaxy, stars and nebulas and supernovas that shine and glimmer and then go out in the blink of an eye."

When Itachi looks at the fish, all he can see is fish. To him, there are no stars or nebulas or supernovas, no hidden beauty beyond the glass.

"What do you think of fish, Itachi?"

He tries to find something nice to say, something that won't wipe the smile right off her face. "They make easy pets," he finally manages, and she laughs again, and he supposes that is good.

"Goldfish, you mean," she corrects him. "And koi. And betta, and guppies, and tetras. But not rockfish or manta rays or sand sharks."

"No," he agrees. "Those would be troublesome."

"You'd keep them in your bathtub." She grins impishly, and tucks her hair behind her ear, the pink faded and pale in the soft light of the ocean surrounding them. "You'd hide them from your family."

Sakura has a knack for that: speaking nonsensical words when she is, in reality, capable of reciting thesauruses out by heart. That's boring, she says. Words on paper are static and stagnant, you flip the page and there it all is, laid out for you to only look at, but not discover.

Itachi doesn't understand. Itachi's never understood. But he's learned to predict, learned to read—he's just _learned_ Sakura, from head to toe, even though she's always twirling and dancing and leaping, always moving, always changing. She's a current all her own, and he's caught up in it, the helpless little guppy who doesn't know how to escape.

But then again, such is life. You never do quite get to choose where you end up, or who you end up with.

"Keeping them in my bathtub would probably be animal abuse," he says, smiling wryly. "Even I'm not that cruel."

"Really?" she asks, half rhetorical. "I think you are."

"You slay me, Sakura."

"You slay _me_, Itachi. I can't believe you let me pay for your entrance ticket to this place when you're not even remotely interested." But there is kindness in her eyes, a look she saves just for him, although he has yet to decipher that part of her.

(_A quiet declaration of 'I love you', something he's always had an inkling of. No, he thinks. The galaxy is not out there, in the rocks and sea salt and silver schools of fish. The galaxy is right here, burning in your eyes._)

"Then all you have to do is interest me," he says, a simple solution to a complicated problem.

Sakura exhales, a slow breath through soft lips. And then: "Okay." Her eyes glitter like a hidden treasure at the bottom of the ocean, the rich green of kelp, the distant echo of a love story long forgotten. She grabs his hand and tugs him along, out of the tunnel and to the next display. "Come on, you're holding us up."

He lets her pull him past the information boards and to the actual fish, as if he's the dead weight and not her. But that's alright, Itachi supposes. Things are always alright with Sakura. He can't see the point of fish, but he can definitely see the point of her.

* * *

**A/N:** A very quick update because this week is going to suck for me (meaning increased workload which actually means I'm going to write more to hide from it, but not post anything out of guilt). Also because you guys are inspiring! I love your prompts, so starting next chapter, I'll be posting those.

Just a note to an anonymous reviewer last chapter, a non-massacre pregnancy drabble happened in chapter 45. :)

Please keep the prompts coming, if you can!


	48. stunning

**prompt:** stunning (a continuation of chapter 36, as requested by an anonymous reviewer)

**summary:** they may not love each other, but hey, at least they have each other.

* * *

She meets him at the first of several family meetings to discuss her wedding with Sasuke. He's quiet, handsome, charismatic—almost identical to Sasuke, but at the core, very different.

Because Sasuke, although selectively kind, is brutal. Itachi has never been brutal by choice. (But that does not mean he's never been brutal at all.)

Sakura marries Sasuke because she loves him. She marries Sasuke because she's loved him for years and he finally looked her way, finally gave her the time of day—and finally promised the rest of his life to her. She is excited and she is happy—but, of course, nothing ever goes the way she plans.

Because Sasuke, in the end, never truly loves her. Not in the way she wants him to, at least.

Not in the way that will have them spending lazy Sunday mornings together in bed, or the way that will have them quietly laughing at inside jokes together. And it's only after she marries him that she realizes this—that her dream will remain just a dream.

But Sasuke does love her like this:

Making her a fresh brew of coffee before he leaves for work. Leaving out the clothes that need to be washed, folded neatly at the foot of their bed. He never makes life hard for her.

But that's all there is. Because Sakura has always been too soft for him, too kind for him—she never yells even when he hurts her, and maybe that's when he draws away. She'll probably never know.

Itachi is different. When she looks carefully, compared to Sasuke, Sakura discovers that he is very, very different.

—

"You love him, right?" Itachi asks idly while they wait in the privately booked room in one of the Uchiha's favorite high class restaurants.

"Of course," she cautions, wary. "I wouldn't have married him otherwise."

"Of course," he echoes her quietly. "Of course you love him."

"Why do you ask?"

He looks at her, his dark eyes just as piercing as Sasuke's, and says: "Because it hasn't even been a year yet and you already look so sad."

Her eyes narrow. "You say that as if me being sad is inevitable."

"I've known him all my life. I know what it's like." He turns away, his long hair slipping from his shoulder.

Sakura looks away too, not wanting to see that Itachi knows just how she hurts. "He's been seeing other women," she says quietly—not for comfort, but just as a fact. "I don't—I don't know how to make him look at me properly."

"You won't know how to. You can't change him."

"Can you?"

A heartbeat. And then: "No."

And that is all Sakura needs to know, and all she can know, because in the next moment, the door opens and Sasuke strides in, tall and proud and untouchable, followed by his parents. He sits down beside Sakura without so much of a word.

And she's long since stopped trying to get one out of him.

—

She pads out of the bathroom one afternoon, freshly showered with a towel wrapped securely around her, to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen.

And to her surprise and utter bafflement, she finds Itachi there, a crème folder held in his slim fingers.

"I was dropping something off for Sasuke," he explains.

"You have a key to our house?"

"Of course."

"Of course?"

"You should have a key to mine, too. Unless Sasuke never told you that."

"No, he never did."

She shivers, feeling cold water drip from her hair onto her bare shoulders. His eyes flit over her just once, very briefly. Sakura is embarrassed for a moment, before she figures, she shouldn't be. Itachi's family. And if he's Sasuke's family, then chances are, he'll care about her being nearly naked as much as Sasuke does: not at all.

So she continues on her route; brushes past him to grab her water from the fridge. Itachi places his folder on the counter where Sasuke is sure to see it. "Can you let him know I need these back by tomorrow?"

"I might not even see him before tomorrow. He comes home late these days—says it's for work, but I always smell another woman's perfume on his suit."

He nods once in understanding. "Is it the same perfume every time?"

"No."

"Well, at least you know he's not seeing one specific woman."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"If it does, then you're terribly easy to please."

She scoffs, and drinks her water. "You're not clever, you know."

"I never said I was." Pause. "But, yes, I am."

It takes a moment for her to realize that it's her making the sound. She's laughing. Itachi made her laugh.

When was the last time she laughed…?

Itachi's lips quirk upwards in a faint smile, before he takes a step forward to kiss her on the cheek. Her laugh dies right in her throat.

"That reminds me of your wedding day," he tells her. "You looked so happy."

"Because I _was_ happy."

"But not anymore."

"…No, not anymore." There's no point in denying it, especially to a person who's repeatedly been hurt by Sasuke for so much longer than she has.

Itachi's hand runs through her damp hair, a deliberate action. "I wasn't going to say anything, but…"

She sees a brief flicker, a spark of hope.

Hope for what?

"I think you're beautiful." Itachi's palm touches her cheek. "And radiant. And when I met you for the first time in the bridal shop to bring Sasuke to a meeting, I…"

"What?" She's rooted to the spot—can't step forward, can't step backward. "You what?"

"I thought, what a waste. Because this stunning woman is going to marry Sasuke, and once she does, she won't be stunning anymore." Itachi leans in, close enough for her to see his lashes, to feel his warm breath on her skin, luring, tantalizing. "Sasuke is going to dull her down and she's going to stop looking like the happiest person in the world."

Sakura swats his hand away, and scowls. "I don't need Sasuke to be happy."

"What a lie," Itachi says, the exact moment she realizes it. "You're far prettier when you smile, Sakura. So don't look so sour."

"Are you mocking me?"

"No." He glances away, only for a moment, in the direction of the front door, as though it would open at any moment and Sasuke would come bursting in. (Of course though, he won't. Because he never does.) "I just want to make you stunning again."

"I don't need anyone to make me stunning."

His eyes burn, the way Sasuke's do—but not with irritation. They burn with a warmth Sakura has never seen in Sasuke before, and she doesn't know how to react to it. "I know. But I want to be there to see you when you are."

And he takes her face in both of his hands, and kisses her.

And he's warm, and gentle, and there is an underlying chill in his actions. And Sakura doesn't resist him as much as she knows she should.

Because what has she got to lose? Not Sasuke, that's for sure.

Itachi's fingers briefly meet her skin, and her towel falls to the floor.

—

By the time Sasuke comes home early that Thursday and discovers them together, Sakura has run out of tears to cry.

"How long has this been going on for?"

"Not as long as you, Sasuke-kun."

Sasuke's eyes sweep over the area—everything impeccable: his mug upturned on the sink rack, left there this morning to dry, his jacket, hanging by the door, and his stack of files on the coffee table, the extra work that he's been picking at for the past week or so. Sasuke is spread all over their home but now Sakura realizes that it's never really felt like _their_ home; she's spent more time with Itachi here in two months than she's spent with Sasuke in the eight they've been married.

And it's somehow stopped hurting so much—it's dulled to an endless ache, but a manageable one.

"I won't return before seven in the evenings from now on," Sasuke says, grabbing the keys that he placed on the counter just minutes ago. "Do whatever you want, but not when I'm around." And he's out the door.

From the couch, Itachi turns to look at her. "That wasn't so bad," he remarks.

"Yeah. Not bad at all, I guess."

Itachi and Sasuke are similar in so many ways that sometimes, Sakura looks at Itachi and accidentally mistakes him for her husband. Itachi has the same sharp edge that Sasuke does—rub him the wrong way, and he will raise the walls around him. He speaks with a controlled voice and he is influential and charismatic, and she—sometimes, she thinks she can love him.

But they are different. They are different because Sasuke cuts his losses and leaves. Sasuke is short-sighted and the best he can do is make coffee for Sakura in the morning.

Itachi doesn't know how to let go. Itachi hides everything, but he never stops. And Sakura is pulled into him, because that is the one thing they share: they both love Sasuke, but Sasuke has already cut them out and left.

"I'm never going to love you the way you should be loved, you know," she tells Itachi.

"I don't want anyone if it's not you."

She laughs, short and cynical. "A little late to say that, don't you think?"

"Better late than never, don't you think?"

She laughs again, softer this time, and moves to sit beside him on the couch, not bothering to throw something on. It doesn't matter anyway. "We couldn't have chosen someone else to love, could we?"

"Where would be the fun in being happy?"

Sakura turns to him with her eyebrows raised. "You, Uchiha Itachi, are impossible."

A smile ghosts across his lips as he leans in to kiss her. "And you, Haruno Sakura, are stunning." A breath. "Well, almost, anyway."

* * *

**A/N:** I'm exhausted. I'm running on a few hours of sleep a day. I can't see straight so I'm sorry for typos. :(


	49. children

**prompt:** children (as suggested by red. masenko, thanks a bunch!)

**summary:** love is easy. it's only difficult because you make it difficult.

* * *

Teaching is, Sakura discovers, much more draining and much more difficult than she had originally assumed.

_I knew I should have signed up for secondary school,_ she thinks to herself. _I knew it._

The kindergarteners scramble to and fro as the bell rings, and they drop their things to race to their cubbies and grab their jackets and outdoor shoes for recess.

And once they're gone, once it's quiet, _finally quiet_, she heaves a sign of relief and collapses in her chair.

A quiet laugh behind her. "Exhausting, isn't it?"

She spins in her chair to look at Uchiha Itachi, the proper teacher in this classroom. "How do you do it, senpai?"

He shrugs. "I compensate, here and there."

It's been three days of Sakura being Itachi's student teacher, and it has been more disastrous than anything. She's gotten paint in her hair, her toes stepped on, and screamed at so much that her ears are always ringing by the end of the day.

Fifteen minutes of recess is nowhere near long enough of a break.

"Field trip next week," Itachi reminds her offhandedly, wiping off the chalkboard. "To the museum."

She sighs. "Yeah."

"I'll send you the itinerary tonight."

"Okay, thanks."

Itachi works, quietly, writing down things on the board: big block numbers, each one in a different color of chalk. For the quiet and introverted man he is, he makes a fantastic kindergarten teacher, all smiles and laughter when children are around. He's like a completely different person. He would make a good father, she thinks.

"If you don't mind me asking, senpai," Sakura says then, wringing her hands together and spinning on her chair so she doesn't have to look at him. "When I'm done my practicum here—once I've gotten my license and I'm a proper teacher…would you mind—I mean, if you'd like—maybe, to have dinner with me?"

The scratching of chalk on slate. "Are you by any chance, Sakura, asking me out?"

She swallows, and her voice comes out as shy, meek. "Would it be alright if I was?"

He laughs quietly. "That's a breach of conduct."

"Which is why I said when this is over—"

The bell rings and she jumps in her seat. Recess is over.

"You should go collect the kids," Itachi says softly. She sneaks a glance at him, and he's still drawing on the board, apples and oranges and pears in groups of ones, twos, and threes—simple numbers for simple lives, and she almost wishes having a massive crush on her mentor would be something like that. Except it's not, of course.

"Yeah," she mutters, standing up. "I will."

"Oh, and Sakura"—and she turns away and stares, with this blinding, aching hope—"ask me again, when you're done your practicum. I'll think about it then."

She nods, a little too eager, a little too happy. "Okay. I will. I definitely will." And she races off to fetch the kids who are already lining up in single file outside, acting akin to a kid herself.

(Later, during playtime, some of the girls drag her and Itachi to play house with them—"Because Itachi-sensei is a proper boy, not like the other boys who don't want to play with us!"—and they shove dolls in their hands, Itachi the dad and Sakura the mom, and make them hold hands, and laugh, and pretend to be their children and asking for playdates and cookies and a later bedtime. Itachi and Sakura play along willingly, smiles on their faces—but her hand, loose in Itachi's, accidentally twitches, and she feels him give her a light squeeze and yes, having a massive crush on her mentor really is that simple. It really is.)

* * *

**A/N:** I apparently have this really bad habit of forgetting that I actually have chapters lined up to post.

I have more or less all of your prompts listed out, but it's not really a matter of first come first serve as it is a whichever-inspires-me-first kind of schedule. Anyone else who writes will understand that, and if you don't, then I'm sorry anyway because I suck. D:


	50. tallies

**prompt:** tallies (self-inflicted wounds, as suggested by pandastacia)

**summary:** all of your failures and disappointments and heartbreaks, lined up and etched into your skin.

* * *

As a medical student, Sakura gets her first case a little earlier in her life than she had expected. But sometimes, she thinks it might not be considered a case—because it hits a little close to home.

"Sakura," Sasuke calls out to her, and in the kitchen, she turns to see him at the counter and pouring water from a kettle into several mugs. "Can you bring Nii-san some tea?"

"It's your house, it's your brother," she mutters. "Bring it to him yourself." But she grabs a mug anyway, the dark blue one, because that one is Itachi's, and she's known this family for so long that she's long since memorized which mug belongs to who.

The house is quiet as she pads down the hallway to Itachi's room, where he's sure to be, as that's where he always is. Without knocking, she opens the door.

"Itachi, Sasuke made you some tea."

The older Uchiha is sitting cross-legged on his bed, spinning a razor blade in his fingers. His eyes move to meet hers, dark, calm.

"Thank you," he says, and places the blade to the side to stand to his feet. "I don't suppose asking you to knock beforehand will actually lead you to knocking beforehand, will it?"

"Sorry," she says, smiling impishly. "I never think you have anything to hide from me."

Something flits across his eyes, dark and unidentifiable, before he says, "I don't, but they're manners."

"Yes, yes, senpai." She salutes, and hands him his tea. "What's with the razor blade, by the way?"

Again, a moment—and something uncomfortable tugs at Sakura's heart, something she thinks she shouldn't just overlook.

"A project," Itachi murmurs, sipping at his tea, still steaming. "Cutting cardboard is involved."

Her eyes skim around the room. There is no sign of cardboard anywhere.

"Itachi," she cautions, "are you okay?"

He doesn't answer her question. "Go back to Sasuke." His voice is quiet (because Itachi never raises his voice, not even when he's angry—he keeps it down because he is cultured and he is mannered, unlike Sakura, who barges into people's rooms without knocking first).

She backs up and closes the door, effectively shutting herself in. "Itachi?" She takes a cautious step towards his bed, where he left the blade. When he doesn't make a move to stop her, she takes another step, more confident, and again, until she reaches the bed and gingerly picks up the blade.

It's faint, but she sees the traces of blood on it.

"Itachi," she says again, her brow furrowing in concern.

She's never been as close with Itachi as she is with Sasuke due to their large age gap, but years of knowing him and being family friends has given her ample amount of time to learn him and spend time with him. And this—this makes her worry. She's never seen him like this before.

He places his tea on his desk without so much as a sound, and gently pulls the blade from her fingers. "Go back to Sasuke," he says again, just as quiet as the first time.

If he didn't want her to see it, he could've easily stopped her. There have been times when he's been much more authoritative towards her than he is right now, and has successfully gotten her to do what he wanted her to do. But he didn't stop her this time. He didn't even try.

He wanted her to see, didn't he? He wanted her to discover him.

Her movements are sudden then, because she's struck by a wave of fear for the man standing in front of her. She hits his hand and the blade goes flying, lodging itself into the wall. Itachi remains impassive as she grabs his hands, both of them, and turns them to reveal his wrists.

Untouched. Scarless.

But of course Itachi wouldn't. Not in such an obvious place. Not in such a dangerous, damaging place. Itachi wouldn't use blades to kill himself—he'd only use them to hurt himself.

Roughly, she shoves up the sleeves of his black turtleneck sweater, and ah, there they are—scars, organized in tallies, faint along his left arm. The older ones are higher up his forearm, the newer ones further down. He's keeping count of something.

"Itachi," she says, for a third time, because she doesn't know what else to say.

He tilts his head. "Sakura." His arm remains relaxed in her grip, but she's grasping him so tightly she must be cutting off circulation.

Itachi is a smart person. Asking him what's wrong, or offering comfort, is going to do nothing for him. So instead: "What are you keeping track of?"

He answers, diligently and almost frighteningly fast. "Every time I lose composure. Lack of discipline. Failures."

"Keep track of that on a piece of _paper_, dammit," she snaps, letting go of his arm. "What the hell are you thinking?"

"I didn't ask you to butt in, Sakura."

"Cut the crap," she snarls. "If you didn't want me to see, you wouldn't have let me see. You think I don't know you? You think you can, what, line up your faults one by one and stomp them down? It's offensive that you didn't talk to Sasuke about this—"

"I can hardly worry my little brother," he interrupts, stiffly. Clearly, this isn't the reaction he was expecting out of her.

"Then it's offensive that you didn't talk to _me_ about it. I've known you for _years_."

Silence falls, and Sakura realizes that even now, Itachi does not plan to talk to her about it.

Then what's the point? What's the point in letting her see, letting her know, if he doesn't let her in?

"I'll be back later," she finally says, trying to tone down the anger in her voice. "And if you don't talk to me then, I'm going to tell Sasuke what you've been doing for God knows how long." And without a word, she leaves the room.

Because past the anger, and past the disappointment, Sakura is just hurt. So many times, Itachi has helped her with her problems—about school, about boys, about life. She's never seen him as someone who's above her, but someone she can lean on for support like she does for Sasuke, and someone who can do the same to her, if he ever needs it. In Sasuke's absence, or when she wants a more rational perspective than Sasuke's hotheaded words, she finds Itachi, and he is always there.

Of course it goes both ways. Of course it does.

In the silence of the hallway, Sakura leans against the wall, forcing back her angry tears and swallowing thickly. She should've been gentler, she thinks. She should've been patient. Itachi doesn't need her acting like a child right now—maybe that's why he didn't confide in her in the first place.

Sakura lets her head fall back against the wall with a soft thump, and finds the strength to forgive Itachi. And herself.

Once she returns to the kitchen, composed, Sasuke shoots her a look. "What took you so long? Are you having an affair with my brother, or something?"

Which, after what she discovered, she just might be. "No. And even if I was, it wouldn't be an affair, it'd be a proper relationship." Sasuke just rolls his eyes, dismissing the subject thoughtlessly. He doesn't have a clue, does he? Itachi puts up the perfect act—Sakura would've never known either, if he didn't intentionally let his walls down.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there or what? After all that whining you put me through to get me to watch this movie with you."

"Hey, The Titanic is a classic!" She follows Sasuke into the living room, where he's already placed their tea and biscuits.

"Classic or not, anyone gets sick of it after watching it five times."

"You're just hard to please."

Sakura ducks when Sasuke throws a cushion aimed for her head. "Did you ask Nii-san if he wanted to watch with us?"

"He said no the last two times we watched, so I didn't bother this time." And also, she was preoccupied with other things.

She watches the movie with Sasuke, but not without an uncomfortable nagging at the back of her mind the entire time. He falls asleep halfway through and she can't bother to nudge and poke him awake like she always does. There are other things to think about.

—

Three hours later, she's back outside Itachi's room, Sasuke still asleep on the couch. Tentatively, she brings up a fist to knock lightly on the door.

When there's no answer, she turns the doorknob and peeks in, holding her breath. Itachi's sitting at his desk, his back facing her. The razor blade is where they last left it: stuck in the wall.

"Remember that time when I was in high school, and I confessed to Sasuke during graduation?"

"What about it?" He doesn't turn to face her.

Sakura slips into the room and quietly closes the door behind her. "And then I went outside so no one could see me cry, and…there you were. Because you don't like events with lots of people. And then you saw me cry. And you didn't say anything, like 'I told you so,' even though you did tell me so, and you didn't try to comfort me or anything. You just stood with me, and let me cry." When silence follows, she purses her lips. "I won't talk, if you don't want me to. I can just stand with you. Whenever you need me. Always."

It's then that Itachi finally turns in his chair to look at her. The glow of his lamp illuminates his face, casting eerie shadows across his cheekbones. He looks weary. He looks tired.

"Mother and Father," he says, and chokes, so he says no more.

She nods. "Yeah. I know."

Itachi stands to his feet, his movements slow and heavy, until he's in front of her, tall and dependable but tonight, on the verge of crumbling to the ground.

"How could I ever look weak in front of Sasuke?"

She smiles slightly, a little comforting but mostly just sad. "Yeah. I know."

His forehead falls until it meets her shoulder. Against her better judgement, she pats his hair—and then weaves her fingers into it, an anchor for both of them.

In this quiet house, this house too big for just two brothers—an unoccupied master bedroom, full of memories but collecting dust, four seats at the kitchen table, porcelain china in the cupboards that is never used anymore because the people who love that set are no longer in this world.

"You've made the best father to Sasuke, you know."

"You said you wouldn't talk."

"…Right. Sorry."

They stand there like that, for a very long time; Sakura's fingers in his hair, and Itachi's forehead against her shoulder.

"Did you know," he finally murmurs, "that I had always wanted to be an author?"

"Really?"

"Mother got me a diary when I was younger, and instead of writing about my own life, I wrote about someone else's. And I never stopped since."

They talk on and off after that, a disjointed conversation but perhaps the most meaningful Sakura has ever had with Itachi. She started visiting this house regularly when she was seven and has continued to do so until now—hopefully to fill this house with a little more sound and a little more life. When she was seven, she didn't understand what kind of responsibility was put on Itachi once his and Sasuke's parents passed away, but she gets it, now.

He has to look after Sasuke. For Sasuke's sake, he can't pursue his own dreams. For Sasuke's sake, he can't look weak.

So if Itachi has to be strong for Sasuke, then maybe, Sakura can be strong for Itachi.

They pull the lonely razor blade from the wall and he shows her his others, a whole pile of them in his locked drawer. She doesn't take them away and he doesn't tell her the details, of when he started or what each specific scar stands for, but he agrees. That he will let her stand with him whenever he needs her to.

"And if you want," she offers, "here. You can use mine." She holds out her arms, smooth skin and devoid of any scars. "A clean slate. More room."

Itachi laughs then, quietly, subdued.

"You will make a very good doctor," he tells her. "And a very good mother." And that is the end of that.

And she still wants to take away all of his blades, wants to take away all of his pain—she wants to buy him diaries full of fresh pages waiting to be filled with life, but perhaps, not today. Maybe tomorrow.

Today, she will just stand with him. And sit with him. And he eventually dozes off when they're sitting on his bed together, his head leaning and tilting until it finally finds support against her own head. And when Sasuke barges in looking for her, she holds a fierce finger to her lips to silence him, because Itachi is actually asleep and when was the last time he even slept at all?

Sasuke's eyebrow is raised when he whispers, "So you really are having an affair with him."

"Go away, man. Find your own girlfriend. You lost your chance with me years ago."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Just don't act gross in front of me. Mom used to pamper Dad all the time, it was disgusting." And he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him a little louder than necessary.

Beside her, Itachi stirs, but doesn't wake. And because he doesn't, Sakura lets herself smile, and lean back against his head too. Just a little.

* * *

**A/N:** I really love this one and there is nothing you can say to me that will make me think otherwise.

Remember when, years ago, I posted something new every few days? Yeah, I feel like I've been reverted back to that time. Not sure if I enjoy it.


End file.
